THE RAPTURE OF A CLOWN...

PAINTED FACES ,EMPTY PLACES LEAVING TRACES OF MYSELF.WAYWARD MAN MAKING PLANS WITH EMPTY HANDS IS THE MEASURE OF MY WEALTH.IT'S THE CLOWN BROKEN DOWN TURNING TOWNS UPSIDE DOWN,CHANGING SMILES INTO FROWNS.BOX CAR SONGS BECOME MY PSALMS ,WITH A GRIN CONFESS MY SINS ,ECHOES HEARD OF EMPTY WORDS HAVE ALL GONE.LIGHT A CANDLE ON A MANTLE PROTECT MY SOUL FROM WHAT'S WITHIN,PRAISING GOD'S,LIGHTNING ROD'S FEARING RAPTURE FROM THE WINDS.BLACKEST CLOUDS BRING THE RAIN CRACKING THUNDER WHISPERS OF PAIN.ABSENSE OF LIGHT I DREAM ALL DAY AND FEAR THE NIGHT.I PUT MY EAR TO THE GROUND AND FEAR THE SILENCE, THE CONSEQUENCE OF FOOTSTEPS AS THEY POUND.IN A HAZE,END OF DAY'S,BEAM OF LIGHT ARMAGEDDON IN THE WAVES. CRASHING DOWN A MILLION FROWNS ,ONE MORE BREATH I HEAR THE CLOWNS.WASHED AWAY UPSIDE DOWN,ANOTHER MAN..ANOTHER TOWN HAVE JUST BEEN BAPTIZED BROKEN DOWN..