Forrest Jones: THE MAD HOUSE OF PICASSO STREET

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Friday, August 7, 2009 at 10:26am | Edit Note | Delete
THE MAD HOUSE OF PICASSO STREET


No matter what is said it is never enough

speech is always a loosing proposition.

I followed instinct down the halls of iron near the mad

house of Picasso Street.

Its blackened curves yielded a tight blackened opposition.

The halls spoke "If words can not unlock you...what can?"

I only know the lesser knowns in their common fits of a

common age.

Soul full eyes shocked with Chrome filled cries with out the stain

of rage.

Chrome-fire a summer vision sated only once by the rain,

Dancing with emotion never a moment cursed

by the gain.



CHORUS

I AM A VELVET STONE-CLAD STORM KING
DICED...SHOUTING ON THE WAVES OF AN ANGRY OCEAN

By divine right I enter the fold of the east river

with amplified sound...a course plotted

Scissors cut paper again and i am in love with the night...



anastasia ad valorem bizberka
8.7.09