I saw a vision of you today;
You've grown fat,
You stood in paternal protection over a little semblance of your own:
A little girl,
With a toothy smirk.
You appeared content
With what you received, from what you expected.
The world was never large enough to contain your desire for experience.
You would never have settled in a suburb, in a small town, in an idyllic situation.
The vision of you drips and distorts to the distant fallow lands have your life,
Sewed, but never harvested,
Never asked the overwhelming question,
"Oh do not ask 'what is it', let us go and make our visit"
The vision of you abruptly bustled, then faded into indeterminate placidity.
Possible past
Launch you into
Hazy futures

My head is swollen, my mind it wanders
My tongue is twisted stumbling it stutters
My thoughts are lost in the colliding clutter
My meaning is lost under soft mutters

My smile shields my solemness
My eyes reveal my weariness
My stubborn manner refuses any helplessness
I am a man of a little happiness

A man is as only as good as his own two hands
A maple only as tall as the oak will allow
The crop the same as the planted land
A thirst still quenched by a creek bed shallow
A sole as sturdy as the cobblers touch
These facts are universal truths
The rope will give if the loads to much
A throne without man is just a booth

There is a forgotten area
Where I call home
An unincorporated community
Founded to find flint stone
And like the Flintstones
We live in the past
Flashing to the water
Our lines we cast
Far back when church was the fad
And people toghther spoke
A community of lads
And decent folk

Oh the good times we had
Back in the day
The faster the water way
Is said 'round here
The less the water will be clear
Isn't that dear
An old country chestnut
One mirroring the community
All the surrounding suburbs
Love in unity

We love to be flown over
We don't mind at all
Less the people
Less the shopping malls

We love our oak lined streets
Back woods and hidden retreats
Maple, cedar, and walnut too
Oh so many a country tree for me and you

We insist to be forgotten it's true
The heartland alone with the morning dew
The people in the afternoon alone with nothing to do

Sweet Sara sweet Sara will silken sauve
Comes and lounges in my sundry garden.
Her hair a chestnut tree her eyes set in mauve,
Many a story we utter together of battles and royal pardons.
And grow old with the fleeting summers day,
And sink satisfied to slumber certain for tomorrow,
There will be another afternoon with more to say,
And the world set fixed in its ways will never move to sorrow.
Sweet Sara sweet Sara speaks wonderful words,
And spends her time with me, another lives mystery,
Hath once again struck in me a chord,
And hath set aflame my misery.

My garden shall grow old and wilt away,
But her beauty, aged and refined shall stay.

Fall from the sky in endless torrents
Shatter the shelter that stood dormant
Clouds gather above, as does the water below
Channeling rivers with palpitating flows
When the rain has stopped and clouds dispersed
I will be the one who hopes for rain first

I've this guitar,
That I really never learned to play
I've all these words
But just don't know what to say

So if I sung you a song
Or played you a tune
It wouldn't be long
'tell you called me a buffoon

So I read another mans verse
Because mines not as expressive
Yes I read another mans song
Because mines not as impressive