| Current mood: | good |
| Current music: | jawbox |
war.plane.grey
upon impact, our hearts explode
like napalm on the dark orange horizon
circle like war planes, these halos of grey
reach out to hold them and push them away
disappear through brightness, fall into peices
scrap metal and paint chips raining upon us,
in an accidental display of mistaken perfection
the grey is so white we can see our reflections
tonight.
the sky lights up like an exploding bulb
bombs fall and red sirens scream
they scream the words we cannot say,
in deafening whispers, or so it would seem
and the war planes descend on the city
in deep barrel rolls, graceful like angels
the siren explodes, the fire rains down
and upon impact, our hearts explode
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