I've got a view from here
that some would kill to see.
I'm waving out to them,
while they're staring back at me,
but here i'm all alone,
and my beating heart is a metronome.
I'm starving for a pulse,
a glimmer in my eye.
Everything is electric,
but I just can't seem to catch fire.
The stars are candelight
and the matchbook in your hand
looks so alive.
But, baby, don't you worry.
This will never change.
As sure as life, as sure as death
we'll stay the same.
So I won't worry one little bit,
and, weather, bring the rain,
because we'll watch the showers and
darkest hours fade to gray.
Blinking L.E.D.s
from here, are all I see,
like here it's Sunday morning
and i'm staring at your Christmas tree,
where, like a child, i'd lie
to the sea of lights
brightly hiding the tangles
I hope my lungs can breathe you in
like the slow of winter drowns in everything.
I know it feels so innocent
to break the silence with the obvious.
All this shaking isn't waking me,
and all this taking isn't breaking me.
I'll be fast asleep until you see
all this shaking isn't waking me.
And though, the trees, they tell of this,
my lips won't speak the words too delicate.
This is our slowdance romance, so intimate,
Grace arrives.
Sapphire breaks the night like a knife.
You were right, and all this time
the sun and the moon left to conspire
and redefine the sky.
Because here it's you and me.
All these dreams are lost to the sea.
A treasure chest of wayward hope, an ocean's keeping me afloat.
Reveries, my lost memories, and everything I thought i'd be is falling
in between you and me.
In between
the pen and the page is the part of me
that I might never see.
But, like ink, it seems
the words write the better part of me
while the rest leaves a distant dream.
Here it's you and me, a picturesque dichotomy, a melody in binary.
Matchbox empty, lock the door behind cold air advancing print in glass design.
A broken voice recording has her smile a story in picture prose.
She's lost her mind.
Armed with the catalog of dreams she's tried
to forge and to fashion all too great in size.
Praying for sleep it's getting too late tonight
to visit the photographic.
Lost in time,
Weekday waiting, frozen fading,
but will you ever find your color in the sky?
Stained glass pattern, singing Saturday,
bearing so much indiscretion in disguise.
Early alarm clock Monday by her side
with numbers and formulas to bid her rise.
She's locked in a reverie much to suprise
and charming the spells from within her melting eyes.
A pair of hands, in circles, chase,
on his leather band they race.
Shut-eyed as the minutes pass by.
But numbers never mind,
he'll dream in black and white.
Seconds, minutes, hours unwind,
and will you ever find
the points that made the line,
all the moments in time?
Days and weeks and months to strike through
as pages turn with you
and letters make the news.
If you can face the world this time
and take it all with salt and stride,
then you'll never wonder why.
Colors in between blue and red and green,
these which never show without light.
A thousand sheep above,
but little more in sight.
What is it you're wanting tonight,
and will you ever find
the points that made the line,
all the moments in time?
What have you gotten yourself into?
The time has come to try
and measure all of the days of your life.
While we fixated on the forest
tonight, i'll be walking through the brushfire
because here the dark means everything.
All I hope is that we're ready for it,
alone, a single voice without the chorus,
and here the words mean everything
I guess, yes I confess,
that i'm a child orphaned, abandoned,
here, waiting at your steps,
to come inside.
There's always a change,
it's never the same.
Spinning out of orbit faster.
Washed out in the wave.
Reaching for a suitcase
as we spin around.
As the cessation of the twilight
provides the telescope through which I untie
my illusions misapplied,
here I bisect a great divide
between the endeavors of a lifetime
In just the blink of an eye
kaleidoscopes of falling hopes arrive,
and they're waiting at the doors
of all the ones who replied,
open-eyed and quickly mezmerized
in thoughtful reconcile.
As I fall away
and everything you said tonight is mine,
in time, the radio might bring the rain
As I fall away
and everything you said tonight is mine,
in time, the radio might bring the rain
And in the November sky
the captive moment is slowly realized,
and sunlight has my side.
I watch the stars realign
the apparitional apple of my eye,
and i'm alive tonight.
As I fall away
and everything you said tonight is mine,
in time, the radio might bring the rain
As I fall away
and everything you said tonight is mine,
Sing aloud to the walls of your prison and hope that somebody listens.
Take a bow as the street lights flicker and the sand is growing quicker.
Close the door, miss another one open.
Safe inside, or go out into the fire.
All it takes is a leap of faith but you know
it was never like you to fly.
Something sounds. Like music it's falling.
Through the darkness it's calling you.
All around, casting your bright eyes
from the sunlight to midnight.
Closer, now, to the web and the spider,
as those same eyes grow brighter.
It's a ghost town in New York City
and you're the only one living.
Close the door and see the better one open.
Safe inside as you go out into the fire.
All it took was a leap of faith
because we both know
He'll be waiting here forever
In quiet unresolve
As this letter turns to yellow
And slow, the words desolve
You wanted all of this
You asked for nothing more
And so here We sit
Like puzzle pieces
In a picture
That we don't fit
And forever he'll wait
To the tune of lover's give and take
Sending letters far away
To addresses that have long been changed
It's a gift without a holiday
And I can't remember better
Like the story told
Of summer time adventure
And never growing old
And she can stand the heartache
He's a day late
And with the wind it's gone
So here We sit
Like puzzle pieces
In a picture
That we don't fit
And forever he'll wait
To the tune of lover's give and take
Sending letters far away
To addresses that have long been changed
You, darling, always lied too well.
Great makeup, hey wake up
because brown and blue i'm back for you.
It seems so much that this cycle never seems to end.
I'm backburning, it's concering, but, fallen now, the hero asks how dry is
the well?
These shadows always had me tell a great story of how glory can send me back
to life intact.
I'm listening and your sonnet rhymes enough to sell,
but great poets, and you know it, would never sing one song too long and get
their lines wrong.
As you watch the sun swing faster,
and you paint your scene in alabaster,
now the ringing bells are singing after.
Are you wearing well or still disaster?
"Happy birthday."
This time I trust i'll know,
do all the things i'm shown,
begin it, end it slow,
give in, hold on, let go.
Hey pusher, puller can't you tell the rain is up?
Awake enough to know it's right, it's black, it's night,
it's comfortably right.
You honestly have served me well.
I'm past turning, it's all learning and forward, now, around, around to all
Singing neptunes, reaching fuller moons
as the heavens watch, jealous of you.
Slowly waiting.
Contemplating spinning off into envying you.
The window lends a view from panes afar.
Fires light the sky.
The dark looks so much brighter than the stars
as the comets fly.
Pictures that we've laid out today on the floor;
these things that take faith in the hopes we restore.
Old dreams are creeping their way in tonight
as the shivers fade.
It seems that the moon has brought more in than the moonlight
as the slivers play.
So breathe with me if a shooting star is nothing but a stone.
I see you clearly under the blanket you've drawn me out tonight.
Ascending the branches and crafting our chances while your stars deny our
plight.
Sailing half-masted, waiting to catch the wind.
Like nets and fish we fight.
Balancing paths and drawing out baths with spells we think will serve us
right.
We let fly all these things held inside
with strings that we pull,
we embrace, we deny.
Command me, i'm your orchestra.
We're archers. Our arrows weave,
our story's undone.
Each singing, each one ringing out.
Living like sirens and strumming the lyres with hands less delicate.
All of you and all of me,
everything that came between us,
whether good or whether bad,
permanent or fading fast,
is all that we will ever need.
It's more than we could ever see.
Through the haze,
we make our way
through the crushing
storm we face.
We find love.
We find pain.
As the swingset slowly rusts,
and the memory turns to dust,
we resound, we leap and bound,
and the toy is slow unwound,
and one day
we'll fly away.
Well as they say, and as we've found,
what goes up must come back down,
But you were more than just around,
