.

    Memories
    are like
     footprints
        in the sand.

         They tell...
          In so many
          fragmented
          tales,
         where you
         came from.

        How far
       you've walked.
       How lightly
       you've trodden.
        And how hard
         you've dug
          your toes
            in deep.

             But...
             Unlike
              footprints,
            memories
           don't get
           washed away
            so easily
             by the tide.

.

We're in the sun and I'm moving from your mouth
to your jeans, we're watching the stars and we're moving
We're going down the green boulevard and we're cruising
you speak Romanian, I speak you, we're going to far
and moving to the beat as one and the wind blows the hair
in my face and I got news for you, I can see you just clearly
as I could before, carefully, barely hanging on and catching movies

I can't keep away from your kiss, back and forth want to feel
the rest of you and all of you can't wait to catch you all alone
we're in the sun and I'm moving from your mouth
to the hole in your heart, tell me how you feel and who you are
you speak barely, your rhythmic breaths tell me all I need to know
waste the day and spend all the time in your pockets, all alone
floating around your head and hanging midair in your palms like
a red balloon

Why an emptiness within
with the summer wind
blowing away the dust

Why the mute tears
we weren't friends for years
but came together awhile

The earth doesn't pause to grieve
but in the heart of hearts
when a good friend leaves
the void for lifetime hurts.

Little Bird flew over the hill
because someone said the
green grass was bluer over there

Little bird was canary yellow
But only on the inside to see

He dreamed of
peacock feathers
Bird of Paradise
rthyms and ways
He was way over his head you'd say

But little bird
was born a sparrow
Brown , ugly , and ruffled
He wore all his emotions
on his wings to display

But one day the cat caught the sparrow
And it was quite a harrow
His feathers you'd might say
Became fiber the old fashioned way