Just a crack in the brick wall
A red rubber ball
The last time you can't remember
When you stood tall

The monotonous hologram
The seaside hotdog stand
The regrets piled higher
than any mountain can

Four stringed guitar
Home in an abandoned  car
Courage in a bottle
Wishing still on the first star

Still he caresses the neck
Presses down the frets
Sings three octave blues
On life's reef of wrecks

He's free lost in the chords
The music opens doors
The pathway is as bleak as sin
While inside he reaches for more

He goes off to sleep
He has his dreams deep
About a paradise for losers
And a five string guitar

I want to sit and play with the greats.
I want to see myself singing songs that scream my soul.
I want to write and make history in a studio.
I want to be successful, but satisfied, too.

I want to master the JOURNEY of music.
I don’t want to or care about being the best, because
Who cares if an album goes platinum and
It isn’t written by the REAL you, not
Some cracked corporate cunning conning conundrum
Cancer-causing cannibalistic contagious canary that sings songs
More plastic than the casing on a vinyl?

No, I don’t believe and won’t believe
In your censorship and your lies
Telling me that the public will hear it
If the truth is full of flies
Would God be glad if you wrote that down?
Would your parents get angry and sue?
But I wrote them from what was hiding
In a basement filthy stew.

No, I don’t believe and can’t believe
In red stained glasses on brick
But those bullets they flew that day
To a shattered mind they stick.
Should I carry on the journey now?
Is it a burden worth to hold?
But I’ve got to keep the people happy
Cause a Grammy’s worth just like gold

Yes, I do believe and should believe
In the power of a sound-filled disc
The power of a musical drug
With no added harmful risk.
You wouldn’t believe if I got up to say
That I’m living 1984
But look all around at the artists that sing
Without a chance knowing of more.

I want to be strong and careless.
I want to learn more about learning more of myself.
I would like to be a member of the Plastic Ono Band
But the dream is over, and new bands start today.

The musician

Long days yet never distracted...
Lost in thought for a vision...
Waking at the crack of dawn far to long...
Blank page no more..
Guitar in hand...
Oh how this woman amazes me ...
When her finger strum the chords...
Its like magic appearing...
And oh so endearing...  a
Music plays so softly, as she hums in her head ...
Her personality comes through in all Her work
God truly blessed her the peaceful Writer...

This song is car rides,
And bedrooms,
It's 4am,
It's tears,

This song is night,
This song is my childhood,
This song,
Played for so many,
Parts of my life,

Mostly the divorce,
Mostly the pain,
This song,
Brings me back,
To my,
'Scary'
Days,

This song is old friendship,
And old people,
Lost.

This song,
Is pumped up kicks.

I have stuck in the house for  4 days and 5 nights
Painting the ceiling with the dew from the grass
I have been stuck in the seams as the sun fades
And the western green eventually lite

wow………
ageless ones put on the robe
at the shrug of the fob
and roll, not rob
ageless ones put on the crown
at the shrine of the throne
and roll, not rob

The things that we can never understand
Eradication of the things we carry on our sack
And when the angels speak they peak
(and i won't lie to you because they speak of the most  beautiful songs ever)

wow………
ageless ones put on the robe
at the shrug of the fob
and roll, not rob
ageless ones put on the crown
at the shrine of the throne
and roll, not rob

All the things we feel deep inside of our bones
Hide yourself in the deepest corner of the room
Turn the lights out and just flow with the glow

wow………
ageless ones put on the robe
at the shrug of the fob
and roll, not rob
ageless ones put on the crown
at the shrine of the throne
and roll, not rob

I have stuck in the house in 4 days and 5 nights
Painting the ceiling with the dew from the grass
I have been stuck in the seams as the sun fades
And the western green eventually lite