My part of the world
Knows not who you are
A talent beyond words
Rhyming life in your lyrics
Effortless you sing your songs

Tom Waits
Why I never heard you before
Now I love your songs
And want to listen to some more
Forevermore

Talk not about me like this
Lady you never heard me before
And now you speak of my songs
As if you been a fan of, all life
Don’t  flatter me now

In this world there is misery enough
As I drive down the ghost town
Fearless eyes and lies, I see
Scary for people to cope
So, in my songs I sing of hope

“Hey little bird, fly away home
Your house is on fire, your children alone
Hey little bird, fly away home
Your house is on fire, your children alone”

Real life is neither the work nor the time spent waiting inbetween. The sacrifice or the freedom perceived. No, there is more to it now than there has ever been. Due to the congruent moments and the minutes passing. Because the real exists, not at the initial signs of belief. But at the time at which you realize that, you began long ago almost instantly.

Sometimes it's hard to
loose the one you love
For better and elegant
life to earn.
Circumstances do happens
Good and bad time together
lyrics.
Reward comes to those
who patiently preserve and control.
After prize and tight
we live happily and bright.