Electric Youth

  Well, here it is, and here we are. The last blades of summer are sewn across a sky of scarlet. And now, begins the reaping of our sins; let the kids run naked and sewer miscreants run free. These last few months of our lives, at least deserve a proper burial. We've ridden into the dark, torches in hands, and with the embers, scar the skin with the glow of the sun. As it dies, in our eyes; burn down all that is left. Carved notches into the bark of the willows, and into the flesh of the skin we're about to shed. The blistering days, and sweltering nights; alter the little of what we know. This summer, boys, will go down in the books. With flower crowns and dandelions we thread our fingers into the loom to stop the bleeding, to stop the turning of the days.
Well here it is, and here we are, and here we will be. Let's skip and stones, and watch the water rise. Or, we could just stick our tongues in the electrical sockets and hope for the best. I've seen the stars melt away, Oh, I've seen ships sail unto the horizons and never come back. These days have been numbered, and I'm counting down the seconds. God damn the lucky ones, the birds that sing free. Caged and beaten we are to be. Unto ashen days the light reverts to mold. Rest in peace, we're growing old.