something almost, there.

I spit words like they have no meaning.
its just paper, ink, its just tipping
tapping at the doors of
my heart.

My heart. We broke the honour,
we fled the truth and in
finding made something new
  Something to flee from

But the crows know, the kingfisher knows
the humming bird told us so

It hurts though, so, so, it hurts
though.

But there's no just, there's no justice
there's no just

And they do though, don't they?
It just revolutions, revolution, rebellion
It's the fire, the flow
And I want you to know

Though, though

I fear, the meaning, it trembles,
it shakes me all up like those cocktails your angel makes
bitter but true.

I spit the words, I say more than I should,
It's just paper, ink, tipp- tapping
whispering.

I'm sure I'll start shouting soon, shooting
soon, at the stars.

I'll start shouting soon.

so much soon.