Dream Catcher's Mitt - Busdriver

When I fall from the dream-catcher's mitt

I’m all thumbs

And not what she’s after

My smoldering remains burn over glowing embers

As you ready and position short-term goal tenders

I lay un-kissed at the summer jams

A bag of ruptured glands

Who lacks reasoning to understand

My self-directed hate fits

We mouth the vilest sacrament

And adhere to these tacit skirmishes

All for one day ideal and saffron-drenched

We ate each other’s hearts out of serving dishes

This soft science leaves my body underwhelmed

Our ambitious union dissolves out of the color film

And I am just a crude outline

Obscured and pegged and numbered

Dangling off power lines

One of many discarded ex-lovers

Throwing pet food from the red carpet

At de-colorized coupling of heart-shapes

And all the panic-stricken flower maidens

Update their 'who to hate' list

My journal entries are irony-laden

And tirelessly self-loathing

We mouth the vilest sacrament

And adhere to these tacit skirmishes

All for one day ideal and saffron-drenched

We ate each other’s hearts out of serving dishes

(Falling from the dream-catcher's mitt

Falling from the dream-catcher's mitt,…)

We’ve mouthed the vilest sacrament

I fell from the dream-catchers mitt

With smoking incantations and dead language motifs

Their defected army becomes my rogue fleet

Sequestering yahoo, superimposes his frail person