The Mountebank

This is the left hand side panel for my year 12 tee art studio piece. It has written on it, three songs I've written for myself. The Number and Letter, Black Nailpolish and The Moon Belongs In The Cemetery.

The Number and Letter

I will never learn the human
with the voices in the next room
but I never learn at all
because it is a waterfall
shades of blue caress my room
while its not the colour on my walls
I watch her striped arm handle the mouse
while I stare at the cieling
lying here
I will never wake up
But its too uncomfortable
for me to move

Dreampt of a house last night
Dreampt of a sunrise
I was kissed and I was loved
And its all I really need
I'll touch humanities
But not humanity
Too much black and white
Too much day and not enough night
I'm dying to breathe
Its just a number
Its just a letter
Its just the end of the world

get to work or I'll knock on your door
and ask you all you've heard before
you don't have time to do anything
when your life will end on the number and letter
yes it is the end of the world
yes it is the end of the world
the end of the world
the end of the world
the end of the world

Black Nailpolish

I attempt to write another song
To an deity never deceased.
But no play, no word, no song
Will ever be complete.
Five days, I feel, is far too long
But I know you feel it too
Two days to touch skin again
Forever a single view

Take to our thrones
On the weekend
To rule the next five days

We don't know all the reasons
For if we did we'd be
dispensable
We don't know all the reasons
but for black nail polish
I am grateful

The Moon Belongs In The Cemetery

The moon belongs in the cemetery. If a man made word is spoken; concinnity is broken and it is not itself when seen from a city of fake stars. Real stars are seen in the cemetery where the moon casts sleepy shadows on the tombstones of deceased and they are woken from their slumber and float between the trees. The moon and stars are one, when moonlight illuminates the earth.