Give me a hug
The martian teddy bear
I'll listen to your crying
And promise not to care

Cajun invasion

On a hilltop far away
To the wind you turn and say
"It's a far cry from perfect,
I'm not sure it's worth it
I'm not sure iI can hold anoyther day."

In the street the rain is falling
To your feat the dance is calling
But you'd rather stay as stone
And hide the flesh and bone
You're breaking with your crawling.

The Etherial Discography

It's better not to play dead
With those cables coming out your head
We were wondering what you really said
So we called you up instead.

It's better not to drown
When you're so far from town
And no one's there to pull you out
But plenty pull you down
It's a favorite frown that you put on
The one as clipped as your front lawn
I was wondering when it dawned on you
The looker in the dress so blue
Incredible and hardly true
I can assure you I'd never place
You first in line for any race
Not big or small, you'd lose them all
When they saw how shallow your smile really goes.
With a smile and a nod and a dainty wave
You have them paddling your own way
Which makes us wonder what you did say
To make them so riled, was it your smile?

You're not the king to rule my life
Take another armful of surprise
And run with it.
You played the game through painted glass
And nailed us to our seats in a single pass

It's all a big laugh, from one view or another
As you stand on the throne of a usurped brother
Moths to a flame.

The cryptic flash of the window pane
Brings another day to its lonely end
The electronic hum in your dirty paws
Gripping your only childhood friend
A smudge in your yearbook
And a memory in frosted tears.

Twist the weather
In your clouded mind
The shutters hanging
Light as a feather
Between toadstools
On the forest floor
You store your health
Under a thousand rainbows
Only to get there and find them gone.

Another gander at
A heart attack
When you're just not in it
We will grant you the nod
On your grand piano throne
Plucking out the tune
Of your slow demise

Altogether taken
Abashed you listen
The raindrops falling
On your tiny castle
The white souls flicker
The curtains iced slicker
Than the thoughts in your head
A matter of prime importance
It's not better off dead
It's a handfull assurance