Confessions
Retrace your steps
Woodsman, captain
Tell us what's left
It's a miracle
We are still talking.
Second hand flowers
Means nothing to you
But the earth to me
I'll let you know
When I let them go
Let your finger do the walking.
Sometimes you can't have
What you want
And sorries won't make you
Not cry
So what is the point?
At least the weather
Knows how to feel
Not sure what day it is
I guess I'll remember
What I missed tomorrow.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Fatherhood
I am carrying the torch you Handed me Not handed. Placed Carefully This is sacred space. Was the carrying so heavy for you as well? Were yo...
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It must have been love That sort of thing Can't be mistaken For a lesser set of feelings It has a special hat And makes you welcome at p...
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She shares the blame For Adam's fall So secure, attractive Brilliant in a certain view The essence of Enlightenment I see her raise her ...
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I’m tired I’m tired of my heart giving out Whenever it gives in That things being the same Never makes a difference Of looking forwards to s...
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