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The stars follow me home sometimes.
Even though I can’t see them through the clouds,
their/they’re eyes (that) still bear down on me.


I can hear bells in everything.


I pray to Gaia that I’ll feel ok sometimes,
just sometimes,
but praying feels dirty.

I wish I could forget the one who they won’t name,
a concept powerful enough to will itself into existence,
but only to spread malice, even in those who insist they don’t.


I can hear bells in everything.


I see doubt on the faces of those supposedly closest,
the “englightened”, I can tell they aren’t really sure,
you’d have to be stupid.

But then again no you wouldn’t,
a concept powerful enough to will itself into existence has force on its side,
they want to trust it.


I can hear bells in everything.


Sometimes something stands with me in my room,
late at night or early in the morning,
only when darkness can cloak its shadow.

It speaks to me in gentle static wails,
I can’t understand it but part of me can,
I can never know what cosmic force brought it into existence.


I can hear bells in everything.


There are things I can’t think about for too long,
bad things happen if I do,
I have to just let them fester on their own.

In time thoughts pass,
but the ideas don’t die,
I can’t forget.


I can hear bells in everything.
I can hear bells in everything.
I can hear bells in everything.

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