Somebody torn down the signs.
I look around, there are no lines drawn.
I play it off like nothings wrong, when really all you are is a pawn.
A misinterpretation of a piece of me.
I'm sorry, but nothing is as it seems.

A look in the mirror, all I see is broken dreams.
A look in the mirror and a double-take cause that can't be me...
A look in the mirror, oh how everything has changed.
This life and heart have gone mildly deranged.

I look upon these stained-glass windows
Hearing the words that've been echoing inside my head
As I walk down the aisle

Curtains flow down in a lovely indigo
Hearing the sounds of this church as if raised from the dead
As I walk and I smile

Barren sanctuary with cathedral ceilings
Fermenting in the silence of empty wooden seats
As I dwell in it all

Stone upon wood warms me with a feeling
I can hear the tile as it meets affectionately with my feet
As they rise and they fall

Call me again, Father, to the alter
Let me not stray as I whisper the Lord my plea
As I fall in the midst

Let me be as the Rock of Gibraltar
Under this roof, let me stand firm on my knees
A lighthouse in the mist

It's always been a lie
I was naive to even try
To all along comply
I heard the hue and cry
But continued to deny
Your fingers were in each pie
You can eat up while you lie
On the bed you've made whereby
I hope that you die

Take me for what lies beyond these shining eyes of mine, she said
Beyond the properly placed smile, get in my heart and in my head
And see the casualties in life and how much I pray you won't be one
The beginners have ended too soon, I'm beyond just looking for fun

And she told me that the tears she'd cried were much more real than past-times laughing
Men seem to think she walks on water when really she is drowning. gasping
Pray for a silver knight who isn't actually a beast within
Hoping for a branch of hope amidst a forest of broken promises

And I told all that I could say, to her I could not tell a lie
Hoping my words didn't spark a moment where she'd break down and cry
And I whispered truths into her ear with honesty that was understood
Telling her I no a perfect man, but I'd love her like no one else could

I’m in love with the 12th of May
A love I cannot completely convey
I wish that I could always say
The sun is shining as it shines that day
The birds and the flowers both betray
The warmth of an unseasonal ray
If only poetry could portray
The brilliance seen at the break of day
I count the seconds til underway
And I hope and I pray
To live forever like it's the 12th of May

In the hard and cold city
There were no
Two a.m. train whistles…
Sometimes
Window rattling hip-hop woofers…
The occasional
Tequila soaked domestic dispute… and the like…
Leaving me now
Laying in the darkened silence feeling
Vintage…
Imaginary whispers of Brook Benton
“…feel like it’s rainin all ova the world”
Subliminal theme music
Setting the ambiance for
Trying to think of something
Not cliché to say about the
Two a.m. train whistle in the distance...
Cuz I still
Often wake to the
Absences of
Warbling sirens of high speed chases … and
Fusion of passing dialects beneath my window
That I never really heard…until I didn’t hear them …
Replaced with
Fat plops
Of nocturnal rain drops…
Far away clack-a-lack of iron wheel on rail…
Silence…
...and that lonely
Two a.m. train whistle in the distance…