The beginning of this story started well
Meant well, lived well and loved life
The line razed
Now the pilot is flying a different course

His brain was smart
His eyes were dumb
Looked at death and enjoyed it
Never knew monsters could be so beautiful

Black is the only thing he sees
The pure white jackal holds his brains
Squeezing, crushing, controlling
Jet nails tunnel through the pathways of his conscious

A dying need to kiss the monster
Can’t think of much else
Every, every, every day
Loving something that only takes

The night brings sunshine
Bright colors and lots of laughter
Everyone loves him
Controlling all below the clouds

Reality returns in the morning
He is alone, cold, scared
Just another cockroach
Breathing in the slime

I feel like dying
Don’t say that my friend
Who the hell are you?
The bricks call me Jesus