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World Without Borders
by Bruce Wells

There's a halo on your head,
Above the wings that almost work.
With your tattoo's and your teddy bears,
And your Storm Constantine books.
Further south and homeless,
Into something I could never explain.
Headed for the endless rave,
A permanent holiday.

Throw a cloud over your shoulder,
See me falling to the floor,
With crazy patterns tonight's sky.
This kind of paint could stain forever,
Leaving outlines on the walls,
Uncommon interesting me.

I cant believe it's stopped,
Well maybe it's my imagination.
I cant believe it's started up,
So deep inside of me.

Spray paint boredom,
How the names kept running,
We wrote a poem about the sea.
His eyes where glowing with the light of saints,
And little fires in his eyes made designs.
Lost an eastern hunger,
Into something I could never explain,
Headed for the endless rave,
A permanent holiday.

Empty out of everything,
This future history we bring,
The way you thing of God as big,
Is something to behold.
I dreamed those angels in the halls,
On roller skates with flaming swords,
Still passing needles through my mind.
Pull the diamonds from my eyes,
Inside wire symbols, time, photo images,
And blue prints for disintegration.

I cant believe it's stopped,
Well maybe it's my imagination.
I cant believe it's started up,
So deep inside of me.

World without borders,
Before I leave your eyes,
Twin in the mirror,
Visions of a parallel.

World without hero's
We dematerialize,
Shaping the former into a parallel.

This is my kingdom
And I want this kingdom to.
This is my kingdom
And I want this kingdom to.

Tired of people walking through,
I colors me and it colors you.
Tired of people talking.
Tired of sleeping night and day,
We'll build a bridge and we'll get away.
Tried of plans that fall through.

We build a bridge and it's right behind you.
We called your name, yeah, we called you out.

Well, maybe you and me were just the same.
Over love with the night and giving it all away.
Well, maybe you and me were just the same.
Over love with the night and giving it all away.

I cant believe it's stopped,
Well maybe it's my imagination.
I cant believe it's started up,
So deep inside of me.

[copyright niberu/coldfire unlimited 2003]

About the Author:
Bruce Wells is an artist & musician living in Atlanta. Learn more by visiting the Niberu web site. Bruce can be reached at niberu@evilemail.com.

 
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