Stones in my Dome

Stones in my dome of both fire and ice
They roll and they bowl but they never play nice
As they crash and they smash and they bash ev’rything
I reach for my bottle of sweet as-per-ring.

Blinded by sight as I search for the dark
I'm driven by pain, when I just want to park
Can I lay on my face for a bit just to dream?
But a whisper grows crisper until I just scream
The flood of the blood flowing warn through my veins
Is a thundering herd on a bisonous range
And try as I might to just silence the roar,
The growling and prowling is all that’s in store…

Stones in my dome of both fire and ice
They roll and they bowl but they never play nice
As they crash and they smash and they bash ev’rything
I reach for my bottle of sweet as-per-ring.

I think about softness and quiet and clouds
Instead I get buddy rich pounding out loud
The harder I focus to pinpoint relief,
The more I feel slam-danced by whole sides of beef.
The tiniest, shiniest things are the worst
But those are the things that my gaze seeks out first
They hodge-podge’ly lodge themselves into my pain
Then arrow, like sparrows, to nest in my brain

Like a call down the hall of the tallest of all abyss
I fall and I fall and I fall till I swing and I miss
Morphine’s kiss

Stones in my dome of both fire and ice
They roll and they bowl but they never play nice
As they crash and they smash and they bash ev’rything
I reach for my bottle and still I will sing…

Stones in my dome of both fire and ice
They roll and they bowl but they never play nice
I’d pay for release, but I don’t know the price.
These stones, bounce around like spiked carnival dice

And I’ve crapped out…