~Lyrical Pieces~ ~by John Hulme~ Armisticeland: I am a country dying to the sound of soft slaughter shell-shocked by the slamming of doors and the way tears burn so freely on the splinters I am a warlord hiding in your street a battleground hiding in the eyes of the man next door They say there's no fighting in armisticeland but I still hear the guns when I reach out my hand I am a minefield waiting for your tongue to disarm me waiting for you to notice how subtle the battlecries have become and how many of our allies have fallen in casual conversation I am your brother in armisticeland and I live for the day when we both make our stand I am a soul waiting to be seen a page of clouds waiting to be written in and a friend - who wants all the secretive bloodshed to end Plant your flag on no-man's land and win the peace in armisticeland City-Worn: They say she’s city-worn She wears the city around her like a shawl of days The city shapes her face and the city shapes her ways To the daily routine I drift ashore for dreams like her A stranded pebble on the beach A rolled-up, stony-hearted fist Too wrapped in coldness to be kissed I wait, patiently, for the chill to lift and pretend it doesn’t hurt when people are so casual about things that cut so deep They say she’s city-worn She wears their headlights around her like a necklace flame A pebble in her eyes and a heart that loves in waves To a steady routine When the waves come in to play all my cracks begin to show and when the waves bleed out again none of the sand grains want to know But I wait, patiently, hoping to catch the next tide One kind of angel Two kinds of sky Nowhere to land as the clouds roll by I’ll weave you a place your heart can trust when the sea leaves you lost and the sky turns to dust Throwaway: Give me the song of the heart on my sleeve Throw me the song of the rain Nothing about me is what you've been told None of the labels are real You can't see the age of my soul in my face You can't catch my spirit in logic and lime You can't hear me speak without listening first You can't see the sea when my tide has gone out And catch me or ditch me you’ll still end up lost if you follow the dream I’ve mapped out Throw me the song of the heart on my sleeve and we'll dance to the song of the rain ~All pieces by John Hulme~ Floral Graphics Created by "ANYA"