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K.D. Lang “Smoke Dreams”





You would not believe the things we’ve seen
Some are real eye-openers and others plain obscene
Been to hell and somehow made it back by skin of teeth
Been to heaven too and questioned every last conceit
Found our peace amidst the total chaos that surrounds us
Learned about the leap and also all the shit that grounds us
Plenty still dumbfounds us, human error really is a thing
And you would not believe the things we’ve seen


The thing about dark artists is that people tend to judge us
Think us to be damaged goods, presume in manner most unjust we’re way beyond redemption
Country miles from absolution
Little more than advocates of devil’s elocution


Gloomy souls of doomed parole from life’s incarceration
Lusting monsters, nothing in our thoughts but fornication
Heads down as we walk the walk of shame we always talked about
Thought to be devout but then we all know just how rumors come about
Surely can’t be trusted
Best to let us dig our graves


To give us time of day would be forgiving us our sins and stranger things are bound to happen when provided pride of place
See for yourselves, take a look at our faces
Melancholy stresses we’re no less than chronic cases
Desperately depressing, blessing curses, driving hearses, writing hateful little verses
To validate perpetual state of intellectual stasis


It’s disgraceful how we’re viewed by those who host not single clue as to the joy we feel or laughter we see coming
God forbid we find shit funny
Likely something dark as fuck
Misfortune of others ends be our beginner’s luck


Toss us in the garbage truck, we’ll rummage for discarded pharmaceuticals
Flossing teeth with what we find beneath our grimy cuticles
Duty calls, we’re out for lunch
Snarfing down The Brady Bunch
Horrid little cunts with nothing going on but venting
Unrelenting schizos, diagnosis ever pending


Borderline psychotic, not the happy kind of crazy
The kind unfazed by end of days who view this as mere venture gained
Insane in membrane, untamed beasts
Who snatch away good people just to feast on their remains
Talk about a wicked fucking game


You would not believe the things we’ve seen
Some are bruises, black and blue, while others bloody gushers
Been asleep when wide awake and cognizant when sleeping
Been half cut for surgery and made off with a kidney
Found our inner child amidst the total chaos of midlife
Learned where faith resides and coasted high tide of epiphany
Nothing much dumbfounds us now, no longer such a thing
Starting to believe the things we’ve seen


The thing about dark artists is that nothing is quite as it seems
May not smile for camera but we’re doing so behind the scenes
Seen some fucked up shit, no question
Never less than undressed of our innocence
But here’s the thing, for herein lies deliverance from evil


Much as a carpenter uses their hands, we can thread essence through eye of a needle
Soul is our currency, business is booming
Flirting with disaster to apply a plaster to each gruesome wound and groom its twosome
Kiss the scars, permit the stars to sparkle through debacle
Empowering the heal of those who feel the chill, no longer wish to startle
Experience the warmth, endorse the growth of voiceless flames
Kindle them until such time as finally they breathe again


Use the tools so foolishly belittled by the senseless
Never lose the attitude, indeed increase its magnitude
See the path before us, don’t forget the one behind us
Action kindness, never blindness

Less that for be for leaps of faith
Life need not be wicked fucking game


You would not believe the things we’ve seen
Some are life-affirming and refuse to confirm fears
Others make us laugh out loud, will see us smiling through the tears
Been to hell and made it back in new skin and with teeth
If heaven knows we’re miserable, then maybe we don’t practise what they preach
Learned about the darkness, how to craft this into light in turn
Twin flames in our eyes as we comprise almighty burn
Incendiary missionaries wishing upon shooting stars
One day, you’ll believe the things we’ve seen




    1. Thank you Koala. It’s been a wicked little ride for sure but what a trail to blaze. Now it’s all about the onwards and upwards. Use darkness to craft light and hopefully inspire others on their own dark rides.

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