nickbadseed

Most songs these days don't tax the brain to much but this one caught my ears, to me it says a lot about modern times, discuss. Some boys hate themselves Spend their lives resenting their fathers Some

Knowing that There's nothing To Know Fertile ground For seeds to Grow Adding different Shade to the Paint pot Changes the colour Quite a lot Sensing the senses What they perceive Is the world We believe

There're guardians at the edge of waking sleep Withholding information as dawn doth creep I don't know what they are withholding? but it must be mighty deep.

I love that you love The things that you love Even if I don't Could you do the same for me? If yes What great lovers we could be....

I know, possibly it's no good, but some of my stuff has been on other sites and got good reactions, what am I doing wrong?

Stuck my head through the hole to the other side The mind takes a dazzling ride Hold on to the golden memory But it falls to the bottom like a dream now forgotten.

If you want to know about the great celestial show? If you want to know why Elvis got "All shook up" All you have to do is look up If you don't see it, be in the know, the orang glow, stops the

#Dream Driller Fragments of a trapdoor world. A mystery bird. The song he sings of the absurd. My dream driller Reality killer. Made of smoke and mirror. Corridors with endless doors. Each door hides something

As a frequent gig attendant for many years there is one thing that I have noticed over the years, no matter how great the band is, no matter how much moshing or slamdancing there is going on, at least

When I was little a voice in my head said “there’s a monster underneath the bed” Not liking the fear that he gave a part of me was his slave I needed to be brave Look him in the eye It was time for a monster

The Ramones Stray cats Robert plant Paul McCartney

Just finding my feet on here, I have been writing "stuff" for 20 years now, set off in a band writing lyrics some of which have been passed off as poems, I write about anything, but mostly drawn

Home made zombie voodoo whistles past Wicked pastiche Betrayed and murdered Sitting on beer crates She admits how Unsalvageably evil she is Sparkled in the moonlight Fires were not uncommon raise a quizzical

When I was little a voice in my head said “there’s a monster underneath the bed” Not liking the fear that he gave a part of me was his slave I needed to be brave Look him in the eye It was time for a monster