needs a working title. i'm too high to give it one.

have you heard the news that is fit to fix?
all of the heart-broken relationships.
they flash on by as blips on a screen,
and for somebody out there the time is serene.
we load our guns and march to war,
not knowing what we're fighting for.
i can tell you what it is, but i'll have to whisper.
we are fighting for the right to make things right.
and we are fighting for the words to fill the night.
and we are fighting for an end to all these endings.
and we are fighting for the hearts that all need mending.
the screen is filled with blips of green.
the albatross circles if you know what i mean.
the labyrinths are hard to navigate this early time of day.
the news is in, and we will win. where there's a will there's a way.
set the sun, up goes the moon.
the dogs all howl, and the crooners croon.
there is not a night like this for another year.
let's disembody and float up high and then we'll reappear.
wash away these bones and all this tired skin.
look into these eyes like cups all filled with gin.
they burn and they purge.
they leave me on the verge.
seek the sight of motivation.
take the path of fornication.
watch the owl as he looks out,
and see what it's about.
under the skies that burn with flames,
we will write our given names.
we'll consecrate evening vows on awkward screens of green.