Fall From the Cradle

Born to a cradled age
Of my mother's love.
Baring teeth to the cage,
Bars hold the wild of

The child when gentle hands would do.
We would let the unborn die
When we fear the youth's coo
Like the coup of the rebel's cry.

We're being held over a ledge
And told we're in safe hands.
An impossible pledge,
Not looking where the child lands.

Look to the hands that hold you,
Do they hold you in vice or virtue?

We Are But Spirits

Spirits for the night

Sitting round the table,

Looking back at us through 

The eye of tempered glass...

Spirits, we kiss to our lips.

Consuming you and I.

A shot of no control.

New faces for the show...

........................................

Spirits that lift us all

Just high enough to fall.

There goes evil Rory, 

In the morning he’ll say "Sorry."

Oh sensitive Mitch

Has gone and called someone a “Bitch!” 

But then there’s Matt

Who’s found a girl willing to "chat."

Somewhere is Vince
Drinking like a "prince."
But for now Alex
Won't quit talking about "phallics."

Of course there’s no harm 

In a little spiritual charm. 

We are but spirits 

Consumed for the nights.