Room Full of Toys

My muse is a naked bitch,
Leaves me as poor as she is rich,
A slave to this moon of magic,
A fool for the tangled tragic.
It’s the kind of love that defines what love is,
It’s got nothing to do with the shop of show biz.
It’s a noise trap for all my noise, My life of time in a room full of toys.
I am a shipwrecked soul,
But I’m halfway to my whole,
And sometimes I think I’m right,
But I know I’m worth the fight.
It’s something even if it comes to naught,
This rain sculpture the gods of I have wrought.
It’s a noise trap for all my noise, My life of time in a room full of toys.
Sometimes I forget the stars
Sometimes the night is a stranger
My soul is out parking cars
Dead to my midnight danger.
Day-blue and waiting for my component dreams
To show me back to my skull-digging schemes
A world of wonders in a room full of toys
A thundering silence for a life full of noise.