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peterr
peterr
28/Music City Writer.
Safe He's safe from the grave Breathe He's braver than me I stopped believing again He's seized more of life In him Ooooo Too weak Too weak and I'll leave Two weeks Two weeks and he's ceased He fought for his needs forgiven And see I'll be on my knees 'Fore him 'Fore him 'Fore him Ok Keep it going
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Jan 15, 2024
Jan 15, 2024 at 9:37 AM UTC
A Song For The Departed
Working for the Four Bros Auto Woulda thought you'd hit the lotto Buy 'em cheap, sell 'em fast's a motto Though, no hard sell's tough to swallow And there There, there they are They're all there Their heirs And as ne'er The simple promise Of sold And swell One day they came, they drug us out a well Let us know that they'd come to sell Handing the reigns to a fortune five hell Pure skim show turned to spoilt milk And there There, there they are They're all there Their errs And with scissors In their hands To cut The fat We want all of you, fat cat said with a laugh In fact, we're wanting half of what you've asked A family's yours when you look in your past We're looking to explore a store without tracks And there There, there they are They're all there Their airs And now where's The dotted line To Follow? Though, no hard sell's tough to swallow Buy 'em cheap, sell 'em fast's a motto Woulda thought you'd hit the lotto Working for the Four Bros Auto
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Jan 15, 2024
Jan 15, 2024 at 9:36 AM UTC
Four Bros. Auto
Come on Let's go We've got their gold and bronze Come on Slow poke I'll race you to the dawn Before They know What hit them we'll be gone Ghost town Who knows No one around to con Little Riddles Run rings around your arms Pretty Cities Can't see them when they charm After Laughter I'll give your folks a call Say we Stay the Night and day if they want I'm shot You're shot God stop this ****** song We're caught Like sod Seeping right through their lawn Will you **** two Birds with one hanging on Come on Slow poke No one around to con Onnn
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Jan 15, 2024
Jan 15, 2024 at 9:35 AM UTC
The Robbery
Dum Da da dum Da da duuuuuum Just outside a month And twenty five days further from A widower will take his life Neither the body, nor the name will be known A person, a being, who in the next year or so Perhaps notorious of Blood feuds, bank heists, and back alley exploits Will be pure future myth With talks of In the soon to be abandoned old pick up truck of theirs A gallon of gas with room to be half Will spill out onto the cold, black A quarter to four in the mornin' Asphalt Green-yellow dregs of diesel will ease their way down the vehicle A Friday with fog will roll in from the west A dog, a mutt perhaps Will sniff its way past the front end of the tree trashed truck The motor will jolt in and out of its normal sequence In discordant chugging pitter-patter accordion metal-licks of ruckus Like in the days to come Death's canine will want an impression Of his master's woodwork With barks of After all that I will have been through And 'fore I will have known your name And after all I will have done for you You will have dug yourself a shallow grave A shallow grave A shallow grave A shallow grave
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Jan 15, 2024
Jan 15, 2024 at 9:34 AM UTC
Pure Future Myth
His silhouette lingers And still I have yet to let him know A metal through his fingers Is the only bond That keeps us Close I've tried to move from it But his mark finds wherever I go Believing I've lost it There in my mind Lives his ghost What turns your back when you sense someone's broke in? What makes you laugh when you see it's an old friend? Who burns your past when your future is frozen? Who breathes their last whilst being unnoticed? All silence is golden All silence is golden All silence is golden All silence is golden You're on the run now Under the gun of someone's scope The line won't catch up to you, no It only burns a thinner rope But I'm so proud of how You've escaped every beaten road No matter how this turns out I will know You played it cut and cold What turns your back when you sense someone's broken? What makes you laugh when you see it's an old friend? Who burns your past when your future is frozen? Who breathes their last whilst being unnoticed? All silence is golden All silence is golden All silence is golden All silence is golden
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Jan 15, 2024
Jan 15, 2024 at 9:33 AM UTC
All Silence Is Golden
Here in silence, sight the glow Whereby creatures of night know Run a rosary in hand Or else fight The Flashlight Man He walks by windows left unlocked He floods his books with checks of chalk Some call for help, some have no plan Though none have knocked The Flashlight Man He waits for winter, when all is wind When wood would be sparse and sparks burn dim Where flint will be flakes unless inland Still, some have witnessed The Flashlight Man He watches the light go out in bedrooms What once hosted life, hosts time's ghosts in tombs Some bottle up time, some sink in their sands Yet, no nightmares dream of The Flashlight Man's He wrings out what's left of what's right and what's wrong He brings out the best in some boasting in song Some find him friendly, but soon find that they can't Who's wise knows someone close As The Flashlight Man Asleep by dawn, cocoon by noon, deadly by dusk In crimson cloaks he clasps his croaks and keeps the husk One has been told, of age of old, a kid that ran His name, I'll tell, you know so well The Flashlight Man Oooooo Ooooo Oooo
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Jan 15, 2024
Jan 15, 2024 at 9:31 AM UTC
The Flashlight Man
His name was Jack He had a heart attack He wore black on black Like a wreck he fled fast Local smoke croaked out as he cracked horseback Jag önskar dig lycka till, tack Her terms were fruitless Features like a feathered headdress She'd stay out late with guests That'd forget to give a goodnight kiss Poor apropos poised prose postponed Kept on like she wasn't His job was harmless Pistol wept out its harness Had an itch for revenge Pretense, one of his targets A fervor feared forced his progress Whatsoever revolves up She soared by sordid sonnets Anchored artifice, Ms. Anonymous Dove off the pale precipice To set sale in an office Not novice now nor never was Could it cost a couple coffins? His time soon forgotten Stood on watch but later lost it Lately he's either bothered By foreigners or who he fathered So solo songs soon sound so long Let nay look lost no longer His girl's name is April She shows with pierced navel Asks for some greenbacks To catch z's on a pill Lo, save we fail, she hits a dead end trail And an angel ends up in jail "And all men **** the thing they love By all let this be heard Some do it with a bitter look Some with a flattering word The coward does it with a kiss The brave man with a sword" With a sword
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Jan 15, 2024
Jan 15, 2024 at 9:30 AM UTC
VII Sided Die
Of what and such I must not trust Your wit, your vim and wry replies I'll quote old jokes to folks from home So why should I shed light on ice? On ice On ice With cracks of past my grin would growl And lips of late lay waste instead Amiss, amok, a muse of sorts In short, tis' end for Sir Tristan Tristan Tristan Yet bows be still and peace be kept For known unknowns toss light and lull In time or tomb I'll write you soon And trust you're just and jest as well As well As well
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Jan 15, 2024
Jan 15, 2024 at 9:29 AM UTC
Sir Tristan
Steel chairs They’re steel chairs They’re still his And they’re still yours They’re a steal They stole your stillness And still it’s not theirs Can you care to sit? Can you stand to sit? Can you stare at what sits, instead of steps, and not stop by the stairs? They fold into They fell in two They feel in tune with who would dare Never to kneel near the silver snare There, there, they’re all there Their wooden chairs
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Aug 28, 2021
Aug 28, 2021 at 4:51 PM UTC
Steel Chairs
If I wrote to you and not know what to say Baby, I'm gonna set it all straight And if I felt a tune and not know what to play Well, maybe to you I sound the same I haven’t at all made an attempt to be with you And you had nothing at all to give, why me, the fool Well maybe to you, I’m not able to make a change Out of the blue, here to wash the other colors away What would I do if the music weren’t made Down/out of use, you sing to make a trade I haven’t at all made an attempt to be with you And you had nothing at all to give, why me, the fool When I write to you and know just what to say Sonny, that will be the day But when I feel that two of us can imitate Then that’s one of us we can make
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Dec 6, 2020
Dec 6, 2020 at 10:47 AM UTC
The Fool