The things I want to show you
the things I'll show you will be grand
the places that you'll see,
come, take my hand

You'll lay your eyes upon them
your face will light up with glee
I can't wait to show you,
the things that you'll see

The sounds that you'll hear
both quiet and even loud
the places we'll both go
alone or in a crowd

Just follow by my footsteps
watch me as I go
come with me to places
and learn all you do not know

Follow by my shadow
stand with me in light
come take my hand
and we'll see this lovely sight

Oh, don't you understand?
The things that you'll see
take my hand
please do come with me

In castles we will dance
In palaces we will dine
life will be ours
if your hand would reach for mine

Look into my eyes
Tell me what you think
if you'd only come with me
In beauty we would sink

The people to whom we would speak
in blue oceans we would dive
all the places you would see
if you were only alive

STRAWBERRY  FIELDS

I  walked  in  the  strawberry  fields
with  you,  so  long,  so  long  ago

 the  sun  was  shining  and  nature  was  smiling
and  our  two  hearts  fluttered  as  love  was  starting
to  grow
but  I  was  sixteen  and  you  were  fifteen
the  tender  buds  of  our  love  had  not  known
the  fragility  and  ephemerality  of  the  heart’s  affection
we  changed  as  the  seasons  and  time  had  swiftly  flown
now  I  am  forty-­‐‑one  and  you  forty
and  the  strawberry  fields  are  derelict  and  no  longer  sown
none  can  fight  omnipotent  destiny
I  have  become  a  stoic,  happy  to  be  by  myself-­‐‑-­‐‑alone

FIRST LOVE

I buried my wild youthful dream
In the sand of a faraway shore
I promised myself
Never to return there any more.

Time had taken flight on relentless wings
I thought I was brave and strong
Still that dream returned to haunt
Like the endless echo of a melancholic song.

Once she said she loved me
Begged that I would not abandon her
‘  You are my heart’s content, my solace
Believe me--I will love you forever’.

How fragile and forgetful is love
Who knows its inconstancy?
Love that betrays murders the heart
‘ La Dame Sans Merci’.

Who knows the secrets of the heart?
Is love an illusion and fantasy?
Who knows the how and why
Of that which is life’s most profound mystery?

Explain it  if you may
You would need words to cover
The whole sky and the widest sea
It would be wise not to endeavour.

I am dying, dying now
And that distant shore speaks to me
You must return before your last sunset
Perhaps, perhaps, you will be set free.

it was on a saturday night when I first saw you
a party filled with all kind of strange faces, friends and maybe enemies..

you told me I was special, a work of art with eyes that could tell a story
he wanted to know everything about me, it was scary yet warming..
what I adored in life and why, what made me cry, what made me smile

he wanted to know about the things I feared most, my demons, angels
the stories about how I always get way too drunk and the reasons why
the scars on my wrists and the tattoo on my back, like everything..

her darkness was bright like the moon and the stars in the sad sky
but she always shined like the sun, she was so full of life and beauty

it was just like the nights before, the music was smashing , it was loud
we had way too much alcohol in our veins more than was good for us
you were craving for my attention and there were moments I gave in..
he smiled this cheeky smile sweet but dangerous, my heart jumped
he was charming but oh so mysterious..

you were there in the club, in my mind and in my heart
and darling you looked so beautiful with the lights shining on you
and I was missing you so much even though you were next to me ..

I can hear your voice when Im laying in my bed, when its dark
oh baby I can hear your voice every where but I wanted his instead

I always heard you cry at night and I knew it always was because of me

maybe I do have a jet black heart.

Memory of you is... a blue spear of flower.
I cannot remember the name of it.
Alongside a bold dripping poppy is fire and silk.
                         And they cover you.

Love me, hate me, bleed me dry.
Kiss me, touch me, make me believe
In happy endings and meant-to-bes.
Push me, pull me, **** me softly.
Make me sober, make me salty.
Make me miss you, make me love you
Until there's nothing left
But endless packs of half-smoked cigarettes
And bottomless bottles of Hennesy on my lips.

She's in the kitchen
(close the door)
just mixin' up some metaphor;
a true conundrum
through and through
and through to me and thus to you.

Her humble hunger
(forest's slumber)
thunders 'neath a wilting tune;
tuned to too many
to count without
a thought within.

She must profess
(but shall confess)
to any who will listen;
closely she holds
a tragic history
mostly mystery to most.

She solves my soul
(I deny that hole)
which she still fills;
overflowing always
with such unrelenting joy
that is My Love.