If Neverland wasn’t so far away,
I think I’d leave this place
And go for the day.
Where the morning light shines,
With the assurance of tomorrow,
And the warm gentle breeze
Blows with a calm disposition.
But, there’s no sign of a sign
Telling me which way to turn.
There aren’t any paths to follow.
If Neverland wasn’t so far away,
I think I’d leave this place
And go for the day.
Where right here is just as good as over there,
And no one's out searching for tomorrow
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 11:43 PM UTC
Its easy to say we’ve been bitten by the travel bug. It’s not so easy to explain why.
Maybe it’s an escape from our own reality. A promise from this world that there’s both immense beauty and incomprehensible heartbreak . Some call it yin and yang. It’s this balancing act of the entire planet that convinces us things actually work together, especially when our world seems to slowly be ripping apart.
So, maybe that’s why we leave it. We pack a few pairs of zip off pants and leave everything we have known in search. In search for this balance of life. And it is in this search for something bigger, that we take what we have found and bring it back home. We bring home new friends, a new family, and a new way to see the world.
Maybe it’s just a fresh perspective, but maybe it is so much more.
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 11:34 PM UTC
The December winds are taking hold now
leaves come back again in spring
Cause maybe, I just never told you
lately I can’t feel a thing
We lived by the river in the summer
flew our kites down one lane streets
And just like every road less travelled
Oh, I guess some path’s just don’t meet
Cause every time I saw you, we were reckless
Shivering and shaking on our toes
And just like every winding corner
I didn’t know how far the journey goes.
far it goes ah ohhh
but I don’t want to know
Who will take you home?
Who’ll take you home?
Who’ll take you home
Oh, Once I let you go
Now you’re on someone else’s shoulders
The winter skies are darker on my own
Maybe, we will meet when we get older
Maybe we won’t
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 11:09 PM UTC
Well, daylight passed
and the dark surrounds
And I was feelin' like a child
when I disappeared down
into the rabbit’s hole
who will go here unnamed
I was looking for something peculiar
A tea party for the verifiably insane
I’ll begin at the beginning
Dreaming as the days go by
and when the world comes to an end
In Wonderland I lie
In Wonderland I lie
………...........................
On that dewey may morning
as I was watching roses painted red
The Queen of Hearts yelled
with force, off with their heads
Well if all is fair in love and war
then I don't know what we are fighting for
So, I’ll begin at the beginning
Dreaming as the days go by
and when the world comes to an end
In Wonderland I lie
In Wonderland I lie
Nighttime passes
and the lightness shines
unapologetically slow
held prisoner by the sands of time
I came out the rabbit hole
to a world left unchanged
I was looking for something familiar
a fallacy the same
Well if all is fair in love and war
then I don't know what we are fighting for
So, I’ll begin at the beginning
Dreaming as the days go by
and when the world comes to an end
In Wonderland I lie
In Wonderland I lie
Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 6:14 PM UTC
When a bird's song is so pretty
That it puts you at ease
There are not so many willing
To go and get the key.
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 10:18 PM UTC
I see the best minds of my generation,
destroyed by unrequited admiration.
All my friends have turned green.
The worst case of madness that I have ever seen.
With a hollow eye, iridescent glow
of infinite expendable information.
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 9:00 PM UTC
There are many things that humans touch,
in the sea, in the sky, and the land.
There are many things that humans touch,
and build, and travel in, and stand.
The neon lights shine proud through the darkness.
The planes fly high, distant sound.
The freeway buzz keeping humans moving on,
Lives revolve on borrowed ground.
There, through the crack in the steel grey cement,
A dandylion delicately stands.
It flourishes with a gentle force,
that is stronger than anything touched by man.
There are many things that humans touch,
in the sea, in the sky, and the land.
The one thing that no human can touch,
is mother nature’s hand.
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
Tired hands, green eyes
Breathing out, white lies
Soft lips, blue skies
Small room, big world
Lines straight, sight blurred
Same love, new girl
And she'll say
He's stuck in a daydream
Been in love since 18
Allibys breaking the seams
But he'll say
She's beautiful blankly
Burning down gently
Till she screams.
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 5:39 PM UTC
There’s something about the harmonica that gets me every time.
Maybe, it’s the simplicity.
Maybe, it’s the rhythm and blurred notes that form a hazy melody.
Maybe, it’s the whistling of inherent sadness.
But for me, it touches something deeper.
Some intrinsic instinct that connects music to our souls.
To me, the harmonica is a promise.
A promise that anybody can learn something new and can make a little dent of a sound in this big universe.
A promise that there is a whole world out there to see. Small hands, big hands, blue or wrinkled hands can play the harmonica.
No matter where you are in your journey, the harmonica will always sound inescapably like a harmonica.
Maybe that shiny, metal box is just the kind of pocket-sized assurance I need.
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 8:03 PM UTC
5 o' clock on a Tuesday,
73 and sunny once again.
The 10's crawl is killing the patrons,
who fight for a glimpse of the end.
The blur of insanity,
reduced to a sigh.
A hundred years of living
keeps passing you by.
It all goes bye.
But I’ll stay.
And I’ll fight,
for the beauty and magic,
to reach for the sky.
And I’ll stay.
And I’ll fight,
the demons and angels
That keep me alive tonight.
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 5:23 PM UTC