Feeding The Dragon (The Life And Crimes of A Ruffneck Remix)

Listen to Feeding The Dragon by Richard Charles Stevens (The Life And Crimes of A Ruffneck Remix)

Listen to The Life And Crimes of A Ruffneck by Acen

Should we waste time
At the grapevine
Then our ears shall surely burn
Should we see attack as playtime
Then we’re handicapped to learn
For every time the worm turns
There’s a burden clinging tight to the only stitch in nine designed to save time

Hurting for curtsy
We thirst no great mercy
Our views topsy-turvy
Thoughts scattered like birdseed
Deterring enlighten as our earthly journeys fall about the wayside
Deferring of blindsided faith in decline
Thus betrayed of incline from the baseline

False idols bid rivals their idle adieu
In foolish denial of truth
Love becomes a battlefield
In capture less bad blood be spilled
Cavalier approach is taken
Under bloated oath mistaken
Swollen ode of tongue complacement
Skewed through eyes unsung and vacant
Compromised of disposition
Single file
In opposition
Acting only on suspicion
Clattering to demolition
Flattering decision
We are better off alone
While rotted flowers flounder in our bones

Hurting for curtsy
We thirst no great mercy
Our views topsy-turvy
Thoughts scattered like birdseed
Deterring enlighten as our earthly journeys fall about the wayside

Feeding the dragon
When we should be open to freeing the dragon
For only when we have belief in the dragon
Can we truly know of the reach of its talons
In flight
Once the reins slacken
The worst that can happen
Is nowise proposed as our own plight
Should eyes compose blacken
Then sometimes inaction
Can actually fashion a strobe light
Should the grapevine
Not quite taste right
Then the harvest need not spoil to foil the mainline

Should we waste time
At the grapevine
Then our ears shall surely burn
Should we see attack as playtime
Then we’re handicapped to learn
For every time the worm turns
There’s a burden clinging tight to the only stitch in nine designed to save time

Bitterness need not be seen to simmer to the boil
Blighted crops withered
Can enrichen the soil
Granting forgiveness to the givers of toil
When vigilant only to play nice
Should nights become day hikes
We’re on the right track
One track minds redesigned
Cutting back on attacks
Cutting slack to the dragons whose flames light our backs
The bracken may blacken
Our passions lay ashen
Yet embers refashion our canine distemper
No tethers to sever
We’ve settled the score
Nevermore implores true form forever

You see
There exists a sanctuary
Serene when dreamed emphatically
Where atrophy is baptistry
And we can bleed abstractedly
Relieved from our anatomies
We candidly announce
Our essence more theatrically
With blessing of devout
Fracture stress then levels out
And we can scream our devils out
Pouting grapes of wrath decay
When we pay them no mind
Free our dragons
Breathe the ashes
Rise

Feeding the dragon
When we should be open to freeing the dragon
For only when we have belief in the dragon
Can we truly know of the reach of its talons
In flight
Once the reins slacken
The worst that can happen
Is nowise proposed as our own plight
Should eyes compose blacken
Then sometimes inaction
Can actually fashion a strobe light
Should the grapevine
Not quite taste right
Then the harvest need not spoil to foil the mainline

Should we waste time
At the grapevine
Then our ears shall surely burn
Should we see attack as playtime
Then we’re handicapped to learn
For every time the worm turns
There’s a burden clinging tight to the only stitch in nine designed to save time

Feeding the dragon
When we should be open to freeing the dragon
For only when we have belief in the dragon
Can we truly know of the reach of its talons
In flight

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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