RED INK (Feb1, 2006)

Kurt flew past Nirvana
You're a raindrop in a well
At the bottom it don't matter
Bottom can't tell pushed from fell

Teenage spirit tears aren't real
A dead hero will never heal

And when the body runs out of blood
The blood from you it steals
Dear heroes always steal

Many eyes have scanned the words
They wonder how they missed
The vibrant light of suicide
So clouded in the mist

Of acid and of needles
Money & record labels

Jimi, Jim & Janis
They are not simple fables
They are blood on record labels

So try and read the love you find
Quit staring at the graves
Pistols pointing in their mouths
Like pens upon a page

Heroes aren't dead rockstars
A hero is there in need

A shotgun at the page
A page that no one reads
Words are how a poet bleeds

Your hero Kurt laid many seeds
Kurt needed a hero that reads
Because a dead poet always bleeds
That's all teenage spirit needs
Bloody vinyl
The needle reads
"Welcome my son to the machine"
And how it feeds