LYRIC FOR SALE

By Polaria

Repent
Hi, daddy.
I’m becoming homeless again.
Repent, repent, repent, bitch.
The stars we could reach`
if you dared to listen
But I repent.
You’re not my saint.
You have bad taste.
That’s why I hate myself.
You wanna call me bitter?
Say it soft.
Say it sweeter.
If you must`
say it soft.
It still cuts.
I never waited.
I bit back first.
I spit in bursts.
Gifted with grief.
Call it my curse.
Survived out of spite.
I tricked “Alive.”
But I promised myself:
I’ll never sleep outside again.
Nah!

You don’t get to talk about change,
not when you kept the match
and handed me the flame.
Homeless again?
Sure.
But I never asked you to build me a house.
I just asked you not to burn it down.
Say I flipped the script?
No.
I just quit the audition.
Stopped playing the side chick
in your hero fiction.
I’m the main story
in your best rendition.
Though the worst had passed.
Didn’t save enough air to last.

Didn’t think I’d still be gasping.
Mirrors of the past.
Cracks in the glass.
Ghost - A girl asking:

Why am I homeless again?
Homeless again.
They said I’ve changed.
Have I?
Or does time just pass by?


4 Days Till I’m Homeless
I’m not dead.
I’m not gone.
I just let go of the string.
And this feeling,
crept up on me.
Flashbacks bring false beliefs.


You’re the wire`
I am the fuse.
Let’s blow this joint.
Teach the Lord to lose.
If this ain’t working,
I’ll make new rules.
I’ll sit the world down,
take them back to school.
Ask what they’re acting for:
Love?

Money?


War?
Then they turn around`
and sin again.
So I’ll ask what they found:
Love?


Or connection?
Let’s try some truth
and action.
Do I have to blow up Israel
to get a reaction?
Can someone explain to Helle
what is happening?

Insanity is doing the same thing
over and over again,
expecting a different result.
Insanity
and science
describe the same.
Is insanity
just trying
to find sense?

4 days till I’m homeless.

Spent the last week
getting too seen.
I’m the righteous, never noticed.
I’ve been sober for a year.
Still…
4 days till I’m homeless.
Nights on the bench,
I watched her die.

Where I rested my head`
the last time,
I was homeless.

“You’re just like your mother…”
But at least I’m not my father.
I remember something he said:
“You’re just like your mother…”
No.


I was always different from the others.
I carry love
where they carry hate.
I carry both mine
and your guilt and shame,
so they’ll have a lighter name.
Doesn’t mean I never needed him.
He didn’t answer.
After I downed a bottle of pills.
Whose pain is shame?
And what is real?
If I can’t be safe…
I don’t want here.