Dear Machine
Your makeup is fresh
But you're not so clean
Coz I know where you've been
Your sounds of music stopped the heart of the hills
Now everyone's Bonnie is lost at sea
But what about me
What about me
If everyone realized just why they kid themselves
This world would be just like an electric chair
Please. Won't you take a seat?
How do I kill what's already dead?
Life is the way
Clear. Clear. Give me a pulse
I will turn up the voltage
The hills have stopped living
But they are not dead
They will live. They will live
The beat of their heart will echo once more
And you will be forgotten.
You can also view my poem on: www.postmortemremains.com