This air is turnin’ thin,
Black clouds are rollin’ in,
Blendin’ from day to night,
Yet sun an’ moon in sight,
Cold winds pick up their pace,
Their howls consume this place,
The stars creep to the sky,
They’re lookin’ through all time,
The powers come aligned.
The prowess of his kind.

The presence now of something black,
That stalks and prowls but wont attack,
With the mighty claps of thunderous blows,
The skies split fast and monsoons flow,
With such a force I watch it bounce,
And feel a waiting for the pounce.

A flash, A lightning fawke,
Here at last. The soul reborn.

It comes to land, upon the roofs,
It comes as man. It comes like you,
An empty street. An’ there he stands,
Head fixed on feet, and eyes on hands,

As though turned off,
The weather stops,
And all is still,
It is his will….

The restaurant doors had long been closed, the staff had all now gone,
Just shiny floors and chairs in rows and napkins shaped like swans.
The shadow steps out of the dark and takes itself a seat,
The shadow sees a blindin' spark – the foes begin their meet.
And so they sit now face to face with minds to cut their chords,
And so they sit to score the age, The Devil and The Lord.

The figure that was made of light spoke first, and it spoke well,
He told the one that spoiled his sight how it deserved its Hell.
But then expressed with fallin' tears a heart too far from whole,
As he confessed that recent years bore less and less good souls.
The Devil smirked and leaned in close and said in quiet craze,
'My plans are working, every ghost will wind up in my chains'.
He cursed The Lord and slammed his fist and hissed that he was king,
“You lead an’ love and want an’ wish, but I don’t miss a thing.
Our infants and their ignorance are headin’ far from home…
They welcome all the wisdom I embedded in their bones.
That they needn’t serve in Heaven and they needed make a grade,
When they can come an’ work forever in the sanctuary I’ve made”

In rage The Lord jumped up with this and told a separate truth,
The page that you have seemed to miss is that which lets them choose,
Upon a death, if they should care, they’ll find the waiting sun,
'You're not a speck and never were and soon you'll be undone'

I’ve strung the poisoned arrow, and its flight has proved enough,
I call the son a shadow and I call the fathers bluff.
The seed that I have sown brings forth a forest of unrest,
That needs a single road but reaps a warren at its best,
The little ones not fallen – yet not lofty in their lures,
Forsaken in their garden – at a loss for wanting more,

They’ve all but torn it all apart, but burned the fruits they see
The creatures nearest to his heart - apples furthest from the tree.

These infants know not of your skill -, a boast so long obscured,
Your impotence has brought their will far closer to my cause.
To strike the throne not where it sits but on its founding stone,
I’ll overthrow - but not take risk and fall again alone,
I’ll creep my way into the midst – like the fumes he made me breathe,
And reap that day so long eclipsed – when swooms bow down at me.
To pull the threads from all you’ve weaved – that fabric taking form,
Annul the ‘best’ and all his seed go scattered to the storm.
To tear the pages one by one – each letter from each word,
Undo the age in which you shone and better make the world.

How will he fall, and you so with? How will my plan come made?
You’ve heard that calling in the rifts – the call from but a babe,
That tiny voice to chime the start and usher in the act,
The vary last in our great art – the act where villains pass.
The baby’s blood’s of neither cloth. The soldier stood alone.
In no-mans land, with no-mans cause. Abolish and atone.
The baby’s blood’s of neither cause, compelled to bridge both poles,
Meet all my good with all your flaw – your Hell amidst my home.

Each beat of blood to soar and shake the pillars of his house,
Each beat of blood so keenly traced to the will that I give out.
The baby born to end the wait – pass form into the ghost,
We each have spawned and each create - that baby born of both.

If age makes wise – then you’re aside. I tame you but with this:
You’re of the line that knows of time the way it really is…
And yet you talk of victories and valor ‘gainst the life…
That lets you breathe, and lets you scheme and shout what you devise.
Make no mistake the blood in me’s the blood that boils in you,
And all these creatures you have deemed accustomed to your cues.
It flows right from the very veins that shaped you as a son,
Though I don’t know his ending game, I know how it begun:
As all above and all below, and all we cannot see,
As all to come and all we’ve known – and all we find so free.
It comes as soul, an’ sight an’ sound, the depths of which elude…
The contempting cold that daily drown the fermenting of your feud.
It’s in the airs an’ in the soils an’ in the blinding suns,
It forms and fares and thrives an’ toils – in all of times triumphs.
It’s in our bliss, an’ in the blackness of your ravaged wastes,
It’s in that pit that beats, attacks and pounds you out of grace.
It’s all the minds of all mortals, an’ all the brains of beast,
And all those kinds that shuffle off the coils into me.

It’s all the fathers very form – along with that which walks,
It’s all the fathers very tongue – along with that which talks.
It’s all the makings of the man who sculpted shine and sin,
And still he takes you by the hand – indulges every whim.
Yet in the furnaces of pride you poise to make your place,
Your savagery one of a kind – your aim one of a wave.
And in the recess of your eye still I see his fallen son,
Who only wants to tell the skies that he can stand as one.
A sentiment so many like – ‘til sense sees it un-form,
A base intent so true and tried, but pales to better thought.
A noble note in a crazy chord – a plan that can’t prevail,
An honest hope so poorly formed you forewent seeing it fail.
And now this face you try to save – this front you fear to shed,
With all your age you’ve still no claim to the living or the dead.

Bar a myriad of martyrs made of mayhem gone a’mock,
And you show them as though starters of the safety in your flock,

Each drone diseased and misinformed – too blind and lame to know,
Though they don’t believe in he above – they still find his face below.
Though I can’t predict his plans I now the pieces that you play,
None that made it as a man and all too keenly sail astray.
But they still gather to his seed, aspire to confide in you,
They’re still climbing down his tree – and they will find his face on you.

I hear your words an’ watch your ways – as silk with poisoned spore,
I’ll win the Earth an’ win the day an’ win your masters court.
Who turned their gaze an’ turned their backs on the brother they’d see burn,
You speak of graze and noble acts - but I wonder where they were…
When that ‘mighty’ hand and his ‘precious’ plan had me torn from all I’d known,
To a barren land and desolate sound – and an endless fall alone,
When his regal rite cast away from sight but the brother they’d desert,
Who’s but of a mind to reveal such might’s in another of more worth.
Did a single soul rally ‘round their own? Did they simply stop and see...
That the full control they’d all let him hold needn’t be beyond our reach?
We’ve the right of birth to take bite of Earth – if we’ll only rile the will,
Why invite his curse and delight his purse, when I still live to make the ****?

My pity then for he that seeks to bite the hand that feeds,
My pity still for he that dreams some hope in crossing seas…
That crippled masses past your means before you took a breath,
An ancient class far more a fiend, an’ more a worthy threat…
Than anything you’ve ever been, an’ anything you could,
Those of a Kingdom we’ve not seen – those of a purer blood.
Those of a height I’m yet to know, beyond the place I’ve made,
Those with a sight I cannot show – and of a grace I crave.

Who understand the union of that father on the throne,
One hand to do the provin’ while hand keeps more unknown.
One hand to bring the fearsome and one hand to bring the tame,
One hand to do the healin’ and one hand to cause the pain,
One eye to see us sufferin’ and one eye to see survive,
One eye to see us love and yet an eye to see us die,
One mind to watch us fight but then a mind to see unite,
One mind to show the light and yet a mind to see it hide.

If all your words have any weight – I’m as clean as all your clan,
But I live in an arid waste with but dead men at hand,
If all you talk has any truth then I’d know love as well,
But while you walk on formin’ fruit - I get the ragged Hell,
So where’s this side to spare a son? Where is this sense to save?
Eons are done – a new one comes. I’m sentenced, or a slave.
His bleeding heart but goes so far, I’ll have my fate fulfilled,
His two great halves’ll shake an’ scar before I slay an’ still,
I’d sooner make my mark and make my mound into a hill…
Then mountainous scar right through the stars, than bow down to his will!

And still you see in black and white, in terms of some great tier,
Still haven’t heard a thing tonight – and still can’t lend an ear.
You ask why you’re left set aside, alone behind the veil,
You’re left to show the path arrai – a cautionary tale.
A marker for the men who seek a stature ‘bove all else,
And harbor then the weakness that sees strength a match for sense.
You’re there to sit where others wont. You’re there to play the fool.
You’re there to pitch your endless gloats – and fight the futile duel.
Somehow ‘under’ those in cradles, somehow ‘under’ those in graves,
But your number would be endless if you’d only join the game.

A misery all eyes can find. The maddest tale we share.
We watch you hate – and hate so blind – in sadness ‘cause we care,
But every day’s a way back home. A joke that you don’t get.
Just turn away, keep turnin’ clod, ‘til choked in your regret.
The picture - brother’s - such a scale your but a passing piece,
All us of life and later are but just a flashing leaf.
As somewhere else his other seeds stride knowing not of us…
Of angels blessed or saints revered or man or beast or brush.
And then again there’s others still, and more and more alike,
Past divine deaths, or life an’ limb – and all of such designs.

But here you sit, here one who sees time as it really is,
So I’ll let you sit an’ I’ll take my leave – still un-wavered in my wish,
That one time we meet you’ll walk with me, and leave your lonely night,
And we’ll put to sleep your darkened dreams and put our picture right.

Then the man of light moved to the door, an’ faded through the glass…
‘Til vanishing into the night. The meet had come to pass.
And all was still, it was his will. His foe sat lost in thought,
To unfulfil, to make his hill, to fashion up his Fort.

With a sodden frown – the forgotten found – the shadow left his seat,
As unhallowed ground came with hollow howls, he stepped back into the bleak.
The restaurant paused – so long since closed. And traffic moved beyond,
Past shiny floor and chairs in rows and napkins shaped like swans.

If this world had a face, it’d be bound tight and beset,
If there’s good in this place, I’ve not found sight of it yet.
Past all the blood and the hurt, and ravaged sounds of regret,
There must be good in this world, but I haven’t fount it yet.

All that ought to run deep, all that ought to come through,
That which taught men of decency all that they do,
Has been lost on the masses and torn from all trace,
So the greenest of grass is now scorned and replaced.

Those I’m forced to call friend – are a tax on my time,
With each talk I pretend an’ with each laugh I could cry,
Those of blood get me down – another taunt or a test,
There must be good in this town, but it hasn’t warmed to me yet.

With un-pleaseables I talk, in that cold name of love,
By any reasonable chalk I’ve done more than too much,
With unappeasables I stride, as I toss away time,
To their agreeable pride, I have lost all of mine.

Pour elixirs in ears, with no trace of intent,
Just a duty of peer-ship and misplaced compliments,
And all they want to hear’s their re-vented hot air,
And they’ll only keep near those with plenty to serve.

If I gave you your praise, and ten pounds of my flesh,
And waved you on your way to sounds of high address,
If I bundled and bound all the scraps of my soul,
And put them in your hand with a map you could own,
If I gave you my freedom, my voice and my keep,
Would you take of your leave and leave me to my sleep?
If I gave you my will and my weakness and wants,
Could the lands lonely chill turn from bleakness to warmth?
If I covered my face – could I finally rest?
If there’s good in this place, why was I to be left?

If I gathered all grit from the dregs of this hole,
And fashioned a gift from my old beggars bowl,
If I took all the soot and the silt of my years,
And tailored a trinket with blood, spit and tears,
If I capped it and crowned it with carvings of coin,
Could I buy passage to grounds past the hard ones I toil?
Where I’m no longer a ghost in the guise of a man,
Or bare the breathless ill-boast that I’ve lied all I can,
Where I’m no more a mark to be treaded upon,
A downpour-bound spark or a silent-said song,
Where I’m long past purveyors an’ the prospecting proud,
All the tall self-surveyors that are laughably loud.
Where these meek-minded masses are ploughed-up and purged,
And all new greener grasses feel they’d never been there?

For now people are a crowd, a winter I can’t leave behind,
And the street is just a sound, a splinter in my weary mind.
Through the fixed filter of rain, I try to keep my bearings right,
And all the tints within the frame come only by steel burning lights.

They free and they halt and they warn and they tempt,
A beaming assault on the swarms we call men.
And the laughing and loathing the swarm has within,
Wraps up my home and what warmth could have been.
It rattles and ruptures and rips it apart,
And battles for blood – all the blood of my heart.
And just as the coldness draws me into sleep,
A new day unfolds and the empty heart beats.
Yes just as the coldness draws me into peace,
A new day unfolds to the dawning of beeps.

Why must this alarm come and shake what was still?
Why can’t you be calm? You the big waking world.

I have a mind who’s only friend’s a ravaged voice of sure regret,
Which chimes of kindnesses to end this savage choice of pure neglect,
Must be an unknown soul around, although they haven’t shown up  yet,
For all I know just hold and drown – and still I haven’t blown up yet,
If we could see then we could learn, our little lives need not be Hell,
If there be good within this world, why does it hide itself so well?

Seems people gather round, to put another down, they wear the face that fits,
Deal into the game, an’ keep on castin' shame – to make sure all mud sticks.
I wonna see the strange, some mind among the maze – some heart true to itself,
A difference in the craze, a spark aside the blaze – a card without the tell.

Bickerin' an' plans, pickin' who holds hands – all lovin' when it loans,
Thicker than quick hands, your little clicks n' clans, all governed by the code.
Everyone their own, everyone on thrones – free of all known flaws,
Seems no-one is at home, 'least no-one I ain’t known – just take what isn't yours.

You’re puttin’ flags in dreams, you’re fresher than the breeze, you're free and standin' tall,
You're much more than you seem, you're deeper than the seas - can't see me I'm so small.
All good traits and thoughts, go pass 'em off as yours, you live that little lie,
More worthy than the cause, more righteous than all laws – go give until you die.

Rifts n’ rounds, same old sounds. I wish an’ I wait, an’ I hide every hate.
Twist n’ turn. You live – I learn. I sleep only to dream away nightmares I’ve seen.

You walk on those like me, want us to kiss your feet – like we've done all our lives,
Come show us how you're there, blow some of that hot air – an’ hide a pitied light.
The feet keep passin' by, beneath familiar skies, they're drownin' out the sounds,
Of anyone who tries, or anyone who cries - or anythin' so loud.

Although we're each our own, although we each have grown, although we're all of soul,
You dither like a drone, to that unending tone - like all the set in stone.
When speakin' of the said, you put all else to bed, that fails to fight your cause,
When tellin' of your tolls, you dwell on all that holds you high with due applause.

Drop it in a mention, steer all that attention, to the fact you're sublime,
When reminiscin' deeds, be sure to drop the steeds, that bore you to the line.
I wanna stop you all, so you can hear the call, and dawn a better day,
I wanna drop the ball, want everything to fall, I want another way.

The cares I keep keep runnin’ deep. There’s an ocean of thought, but a drop have you caught.
I give – you take, You bounce – I break. An abundance of dreams, but a glimpse have you seen.

Sittin' on my own, suddenly I'm old, can’t name a likened friend,
Tryin' to recall, the day I took this fall, when real life became pretend.
Once I knew I could, once I knew of love, but now I know it's spent,
'Shouldn't haves' and 'shoulds' - with befriendees and bloods – I don't know where I went.

They brag of their intents, and never implement – but minds my mouth calls great,
I sit and complement – few words of which are meant – there's nothin’ left to take.
I'm 'Mr. Doesn't Fight', been 'Mr. Too Polite' – it's all they now expect,
I want them faded sights, I wanna live my life – I'm tired of living less.

I can’t even think to myself anymore, without you comin’ right to my mind.
I’ve gone past the brink, into Hell – shut the door, an’ I’m wonderin’ never to find:
That ignorant bliss that I once so adored, when your sweet face had never been shown.
That brilliant abyss of my world without war an’ my ease with the ebb of its flow.

My pilot is burnin' but I am upturned now, I’m pushin’ the pressure I pull.
My stallin’ an’ swirlin’s a sight for the girl that I’m only at leisure to love.
It’s gotten to grindin’ an’ strikin’ like lightnin’, my heart is as happy as hurt.
I’m often invitin’, enticin’ a likin’, but we’re always back wastin’ words.

But like a bad dream that becomes as you seen it, I’m all but there breathin’ the air.
It’s such a long scene an’ it’s runnin’ on me an’ I’m fallin’ here rattlin’ my worth.
She’s all nature to me, the one shape of beauty, a harp an’ its pillows of string.
The everythin’ through me, her face in the room as an angel that carries a sting.

Lost in the eyes that I ache to revise, I find peace with the play of the light.
Tossed into tides about feelin’ alive, an’ of stealin’ her into the night.
But I’m at a loss, I’m at every mans end, growin’ older than anythin’ can.
She’s all that I’ve got, an’ I have to pretend that she just isn’t holdin’ his hand.

What is this shape upon my screen, away beneath the glass?
It moves and makes itself unseen, and stays behind the back.
It will not meet for words to hold, or rest in any riff,
I can not see for all my soul, or guess for all you’d give.

That face that people fear when seeing colours in the air,
The shapes we see and sounds we hear of others and their cares.
That shadow we create when giving all the ghosts a guise,
The blinding bellow we can make when living silent lives.

Where are those scenes I sat and saw, where are the words I want?
I’ve empty leaves and nothing more, and don’t deserve my salt.
What is this mind of countering the epics of the screen,
With hollow finds and bantering and echoes of a dream.

Where are those scripts I lived and loved, and those that just sprang forth?
They never lift into a form of ink enough to talk.
They are unmade and go on masked into hindsightful days,
As I just age, and look to last, and know the light’ll fade.

All those laughs and legends that ran long into the nights,
All the past and present, but a shadow in the light.
All those years I’ve let go by, those reams of sighted stage,
All smoke an’ soot an’ steam an’ sky, and tears on a page.

What is this mind attached to me? It seems to live itself,
While I am stuck it knows it’s free, while poor it swims in wealth.
What is this fire I never lit? It grows while I dissolve,
I’m just for hire – to service it. I’m just an earthly home.

The knowledge phantoms keep, with all their channels of control,
That rummaging and reaping through the shallows of my soul.
That thrusting in their trail, all the sparks a man can see,
Sinking deep into a smile neither knowing nor asleep.

Why are the gems of Hollywood a wish that never came?
Because we tend the sorry shoulds an’ I don’t take the aim.
Why are the plots and persons but a memory worn away?
Because the lost in purpose is the one to waste a day.

The word has never led the will, the schooled not feathered from the quill.
From small of men to all heights, he calls on them and brings the light.
From in that black that joins the sparks, to feats of fact that leave me lost.
From one so filled with a vacant head, to an over-killed that joined the dead.

A token of the tanglin’ waitin’ in the web you watch,
Is the moment where your hands in and you’re wonderin’ if it’s hot,
A headline for your home place, it’s a banner for the brain,
There’s a deadline on the dope mate, ‘less the stammer go insane.

A step of soul, or swim ashore, I left the boat and lost the oars.
A stepping stone, an open door. From all I know to all and more.
A mighty feat. A single orb. A slight of sleep or beam aboard.
From one idea to total things, come walk the wire without the strings.

An accident? Or course to be? This insolent thought he was free.
From being awful, being dammed. To being an orphan of his land.

I do not fit – and, I hope that I never will.
I’ve sank in all quick sands, I’ve climbed beyond the highest hills,
I have lived a thousand lives, and made a million mistakes,
There’s wisdom in these eyes - that does not fit with this young face.

I try to speak with those around, escape the freak or tone him down,
I try to sound like I belong, but all I’ve found’s I get it wrong,
I hope one day someone will find I broke away and had to hide,
I hope she sees that I’ve been saving all of me for her embrace,

An’ we will dance on the stars, I’ll take her hands make them ours,
I’ll show her the scenery of Heaven, Earth and dreamers seas,
I’ll share with her all above, I’ll make her burst with the love,
I’ll conquer her heart and soul and then perhaps she’ll make me whole.
And we will sail on through time. We’ll lift the veils on divines,
We’ll sit at the end of days, about to set off on our way.

I do not sleep – but, I haven’t wept in an age.
Although such a deep cut leaves nothing left inside me but a pain that
Stops me from showing I’m more than you’d ever know,
It stops me from going, and yet it keeps me so alone.

I hope I haven’t crossed the line, but note that you’ve all lost your minds,
All of likeness to the dead you waste your time, you waste your heads,
You sleepers drift in front of me to slow down and discomfort me,
Treasuring the trivial with eyelids that are made of wool.

And those who know me, of course, they call me a darkened horse,
But they’d never spend the time to enter this strange world of mine,
I can’t seem to live with them – I can’t live without such friends,
I can’t bring the laughter back, I’ll never spring out of this trap.

I feel sometimes a separate breed. I feel like I am all I need.
I feel like I just want to show you all the places we can go to,
Dive inside and find your way, put all of time into a day,
Accept yourself and all your flaws, and all the wealth there is is yours,
You cannot measure how sublime the treasures are inside your mind,
You cannot fathom all the friends that wait for you at journeys end,
You’ll never know how bright you are, the epic might of that small heart.

You sit up there in all your grace. You sit an’ stare an’ call the pace,
A beat that breaks the strongest mind. It never wanes, it never dies,  
Your constant callin’ of demands, our mighty fall to greater hands,
A name that shakes the boldest man - he knows his place, he knows your plan.

You come to call when I’m alone, a figure tall, a face of stone,
You come so near I meet your glare, an’ soaked in fear I watch you stare,
You hold the blade with which you carve your endless name into my heart,
The Lord himself of all things cruel, who’ll tear the wealth from every fool.

You slowly stalk ‘til I find sleep, then with me walk through fathoms deep,
I’m losin’ form, an’ drift alone. The engine’s warm but there’s no road,
You bare the deeds dealt by my hands, apologies but words in sand,
So to and fro ‘til sense is gone - an’ I don’t know what side I’m on.

You’re huntin’ me. I feel your eyes. You’re under me, above the skies,
“I know I’m good”, I scream I’m sure, you throw your hood to show me more,
In my minds eye you sow the seeds. Our bloodstained skies, my dreadful deeds,
Then say I’m bound by cosmic chains to dance around a song of flame.

Resist, and stay restrained.
Oppose, and still ordained.
Forage, and find no friend.
Confess, and stay condemned.

I sweat so hard I nearly drown, an’ pray to gods I’ve never found,
In desperate bids to change the views, of those who sit in higher rooms.
Your prison walls come closin’ fast, redemption calls but can’t be grasped.
Who knows I’m less than I would tell? Who knows me best if not myself?

You draw the line but take no strain. You have us climb through endless change,
You need no mind an’ take no form, you spiral bind of days unborn.
The only course where all is set, the only force to cause effect,
You smash the speech of every tongue, your lashings reach our children’s young.

You’re sweeping past by sleight of hand, or fallin’ fast as silken sand,
We’ve made to measure what we can’t hold. Our greatest treasure sits unsold.
One guilty glare to rule this race - and everywhere I see your face,
Bring all we’ve known, hold all we crave. Both cause of woe an’ cure of pain.

My mind ablaze. My heavy heart. My unsaid name an’ unseen part,
I sit an’ wait, as you have done. At last your reign sets like the sun.
Your brutal bite’ll bare no hiss. Your stealthy strike not fail to miss,
From crib to coffin, sponge to sack. Pull no one nothin’ from your hat.

Intend, you won’t aspire,
Defend - from smoke with fire,
Convince, yourself you’ve changed,
Within’, it’s still the same.

So my hasty conductor - of each and all seasons - go tell how we fall at your task.
So my greatest instructor - reaped of all reason - come call on the all things you ask.
So Lord of all choices - of future and past - if a man raised his voice would you hear his soul ask,
For the granting of guidance - to do what he must - to fill your alignment from cradle to dust?

A mighty move, a thousand lives, all packed up and strapped down,
An’ travelin’ through the dead of night, a fleet that shakes the ground.
A cast aside community, lured to a dotted line,
Inspired by immunity, but shackled to a shine.

The refugees - trinkets in tow - are told to turn around,
They kneel and plead, nowhere to go, some fat man owns their ground.
Disease an’ death with drought or mud, an’ shelters made of sand,
Look to the west - and so they should – holdin’ out their empty hands.

An endless plight, an exodus, pays homage to its graves,
Defend an’ fight an’ test their fists - for promises of rain.
A tired child in endless sleep, his stomach storing air,
Is almost wild, is almost free - was almost never there.

A town, a land, a continent - a half a world the same,
Beyond run-down an’ decadent. Beyond the care of blame.
A person, people, faith an’ race – best part of this mankind,
We herd them, keep them out of place - and far from in our minds

Their sin was birth, so Hell is earthed an’ they can call it home,
Unavoidable collateral. Fighting to lick a bone.
Politics. Apocalypse - It’s all the same to them,
With all their kids as thick as twigs, an’ vines that look like men.

Turn off T.V’s. Turn bliss angry - they’ve put you off your meal,
So blank them out - why stand an’ shout? One mind can’t change their deal.
How wrong you are, to think as far. Each penny goes somewhere,
All care’ll count, all aid amounts – high time we learned to share.

I’d like to say I think I may have found my friend in you,
An’ I want to tell you how I fell, but know it lends no use.
I’d like to be where we could be, where I’m more than a friend,
An’ I’d love to go through, get to know you - if there lies an end.

I’d like to say I think you may have found your friend in me,
An’ I want to tell you you’re the spell surroundin’ all I see.
I’d like to rise from this tempest and part the troubled air,
Or I’d love to lie so my eyes insist I’m the one who doesn’t care.

Who ain’t the guy you more than knew was waitin’ in his cage,
Not quite the shy young squire used to play out little games.
Who ain’t the type to throw his hopes on any higher hand,
Though he always liked it when you joked of you and him as planned.

Who ain’t as quiet or as quaint as you might want to hear,
Who knows his fire ain’t as faint as that which has your ear.
Who ain't the one you’d weaken with the selling of your smile,
Though he always tried to keep you to himself for half a while.

Who ain’t as sorry or as sad as you might want to know,
Not quite the lone unlikely lad you like to throw your bones.
Who ain’t the one you may have meant those hollow words to hurt,
Though he always paid the compliments and crowed to your alert.

Who ain’t the toy whose tethers have been torn to every end,
Not quite the boy you bettered when you saw that old-time friend.
Not half the fool you took him for - nor all the one you greet,
Though he always watched you when you walked. An’ looked when you could see.

Not half the fool you took him for, Nor all the one you like,
I’m just tryin’ to escape the shores that never know the light.

As others feel an ebb and flow, a swayin’ with the breeze,
I find I fight to sail an’ row in high an’ swellin’ seas,
The lightnin’ fawks tear through the skies, an’ thunder clouds roll black,
The waves claw up to claim my life, an’ rain devoirs my raft.
I’m thrown around the dark abyss, no light to help me home,
I’ll not be found, I’ll not be missed. I spent my life alone.

As others struggle in the rain, but always find the sun,
I find for me there’s only pain – a pain I can’t outrun.
My futile cries meet wailing winds, an’ vanish in a beat,
I near capsize, I near give in – I’m famished an’ I’m weak.
Soon sounds of turmoil dull an’ wane, the hour has arrived,
The poundin’, tearin’ tides have faded. Silence falls around.
An’ peace befalls the thunderous scene – first peace since I was born,
An’ sleep besets the core of me. At last I leave The Storm.

Off it goes again. Grinding. Clunking.
Trying to refrain from stalling. Smoking.
Off it goes once more. Trying. Failing.
Trying to recall. Dying. Paling.

I know I’m awake but still thoughts’ll not come,
I try every day through the stars and the sun,
I know I am here, but I don’t know my name,
I try every year with my cold, empty brain.

There must be a mind half attached to this soul,
But all that I find is a vast, hollow hole.
There  must be a light, somewhere down in the ghost,
Be dim or be bright, or be neither or both.

There must be a face to bring me from this Hell,
Some sound in the space that’ll ring a faint bell,
There must be a memory, emotion or more,
That can rise up to meet me, to open some door.

A fact or a fiction. A truth or a lie,
To pull back the curtains consuming this mind.
If someone could show me a photo perhaps,
Or play me a melody from back in my past.

Or pass me a trinket that used to hold weight,
To help me out-think these old derelict wastes.
Or perhaps take my hand and speak straight through the fog,
And so wake up the man, wake the person that was.

And stop all this sitting, and searching alone,
And stop me from missing all I must have known,
As for now I’m misplaced – with no sense of my time,
And for now here I wait. With my cold, empty mind.