the lurches sabbath, so sweet, so sinning,
it's so beautiful, it makes me killng.
not of people, animals, or the spirits self,
but of the one i've put on my shelf.
in the back, behind all that is me,
the books, the songs, all that you see.
my books are looks, my songs are longs,
that which you see, is not realy me.
it's fake, tired, burning of flesh,
it's clouds behind clouds, ie, the ultimate death.
it hides like an ostrich, it's face under earth,
the clouds, just over the dirt.
i am so close, and yet so far,
don't look for me, i'm in a bar.
the bottle is me, my true self,
i'm still on the boxes, behind that one shelf.
you want me, you seek me, you ask a question,
you look in wrong places, i am infatuation.
i am what you seek, that ultimate you,
replaced by lies brought out in the hue.
fire, water, pain, pleasure,
i am the ultimate, the perfect measure.
if i am found, you will be so free,
if i am found, you will be with me.
more than of that, you will find out but this,
i am that is you, in the ultimate kiss.
we are the same, on the ultimate coarse,
riding the same steed, a tall and white horse.