I am an onion
Hiding behind all my layers.
I stand in the rain
Eating wasabi
Cutting tiny pieces of myself.
I hide behind all my layers
So no one knows if or why I am crying
Because, as an onion,
I am not the one who's supposed to cry.

I am but an onion
Peel away all my layers
All that's left is my tears

Reality is pretty funny
Between the strains and pains
And hunger pangs
And people who think bangs still look good
When they never did
Not even in the eighties

I've just been looking for happiness
And I found it in the most unlikeliest of places
A morbid place of loss and sorrow
Called Burger King
I bought some onion rings
And they were crispy enough!!!!!

Still I lose
Still I hold onto
What I never held in the first place
And I lose my faith
And I lose my hope
But I still find a place for humor

I still laugh

And I'm the king
Who you want to be
I'll have empty hands and empty pockets
But everything is mine

So grab those onion rings
With both hands
And let the crispness guide you

See it,
          seize it
Deal
With the consequences
Later.  

Right Now
For happiness

Why wait until tomorrow?

God is on the pavement
It's a chalk outline that is drawn
Around the city
And from every corner of my mind
The jaws of hell are closing in

And I cannot help but wonder
As I wander
As my feet created in an image
I never could attain
Carry me from station to station

God is love
And where has all the love gone?
It was replaced by parking lots
Strip malls and strip mines
God is in the nature
Man destroys

I am on the pavement
Bleeding out
Just like god did before me
Sometimes you have to admit
The battles lost

Let the war still rage on

I speak a dead language to a shadow
Spreading a disease like honor among thieves
I use my hands to open doors
Disguised as another man that's out of reach
I'm out of time to read the stars

My sister
I don't ask for understanding
Only this

That you would hear my song

I'm digging up fossils that time forgot
Like the leader of a band of rogues
Searching for answers buried in the past
And should be left alone
Picking at a wound so it can never heal

My sister
There are spirits on my side
That only want

That you would hear my song

Adoring you is uncomplicated. The way in which, refreshment comes with your ravishment is treasured spectacle, and though your fans are many, this one broods. Pining for glimpses into your tortured terrine, stories of unplumbed eternity, depths of you, titillate. How more curious you become as onion peels, layers on layers. A sweet onion I might add. Yet still, one that brings tears. Tears, joyous tears, cliche of cliche, reconcile charm with burden of unknowing how an allium could come into a world, stinking, but make gourmet a dish.

Trust is like an onion, you have to peel of the layers slowly one by one. If you cut it'll only bring you tears.