| Current mood: | Tucked in |
| Current music: | Alanis Morrisett (or however you spell her name) |
Something to find
Another wake in the Storm
Possibilities filter through the mind, the mind of a glass eye
Bringing it back to the beginning in the woods of Treg
Where once upon a time there was a man who lost his wooden leg…
And Boston’s Public regressed from stress related fractures
While images in photo captures, film prints negative
It’s not an absolute loss when one first hears of the cross
A penny to pay for a shilling of the cost to all those who remain
Quite lost
And pappy I found, to be lying slumped on the ground
Huddled in my mind, dirt covered mound
Of another thing come, another thing gone
And once and again to sing, my fathers last song
In riddled lands on Golden sands / where the sand is soft
My heads aloft in bright blue skies, while my hands
Gently swat flies
Needles in haystacks these geographic pin points
Meaning nothing to anoint my weary head, to assume the position
I’m better off dead
Clever she rolls, to the edge of precise
Another adjective, turned device
But the song was intertwined, I believe, that’s where I lost my mind
Positions may come and friends may fade –
Another day drifting in memories glade
But to all the old songs, of which we played
And all those recording we never made
Some day in the sun
Some day in the sun
April 27th 2005
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