Crack my head open like an egg,
to see what ideas and eccentricities lurk and wander inside.
Fry them up and ingest,
like planting a seed in the stomach,
trunks and branches protrude from my nose and mouth.
Grab my jacket then walk out the back door.
I’m going for a walk, on the highway of souls.
looking to give mine away.
Deep shades of black blue and purple under my eyes.
but I’m not tired,
I’m just headed to the city of night.
Stars so luminous and bright.
Rudimentary thoughts wade through my mind,
flashbacks to the other side.
Bearded men and sandy, sandy desert storms, cacti.
Sometimes you can be wrong,
but I’ll just keep on tagging along.
Bar to bar, beer after beer.
drug addicts cradled in fear.
green leaves of summer,
white powders of all seasons.
Faces hollow, shallow and empty.
© Alex Turner 2015