I withdraw from the heartbeat of the city
I withdraw from the movement of the street
I withdraw from the need to migrate
from the winds, the willows, the caverns
of the lost souls journeying
into a raisin light of captive paradise
hoping for fufillment
but who defines them?
are you an actress acting out someone's words?
or a child in need of attention...branching out like relfective windows
only to find an original non distortion of yourself?
they wait like rapture candidates
in the city square
for an audition
or sign from Jesus
whichever comes first
but there is only one path to true redemption
there are no magazine covers in heaven
or twisted lies
no casting directors, no acid
Katie Holmes could pull off a drug addict
or serial murder
but Hayley Mills couldn't
Its all a delusion
of wit, charm and reels
the video camera was running
from the beginning of time
discovering how suicidal was Marilyn
how reckless was James Dean
how enigmatic was Hendrix, Cobain or Winehouse
Club 27 turned to grief
and they all dissolved like vampires.