Banana Republic..

Give me your eyes.
I want your fingers just where you left them.
I want decay to exist where you know hope.
I want the balance to beat you back like hands are weapons of war.
You can have me, bad intentions and war paint.
Look at me.
My color of war makes bones have imagination.
Nothing in you makes me want to live.
Can I kill as much as I want as long as I don't hurt what's inside?
Chain me to good.
God, let me run.
I beat fences and heads like candy means good thoughts for tomorrow.
Don't tie me down.
I'm good at what I do.
I come home with trophy's.
I fight myself and this world, I like you telling me no.
I don't know what this is.
My hands hate.
I'm no good at this.
I remember why I hate, it's because of you.
I'll peel your ribs upright, over your head.
Like magic, strip it down to music and lie for a little while.