I tried to recede into my body,
down through the pulsing fluids
pushing minerals into bone.
I tried to find a moment's solace
in the patterned cavern of my heart,
but I met with opposition.
Now, I'm gliding 'round the obstacles,
sliding along the path of least resistance,
bound, by misconception, for the slavery of sensation.

I'm gunna walk on down the road.
Lace my shoes and I'll be gone.
I'll let the wind blow through my hair
and my steps play a gravel drum
as my thoughts merge with the air.
With ethereal feet I'll move on by,
past the cities and the towns.
I'll find a quiet place to sit and try
to fill the space that gets me down.
When the sun is setting slowly
turning the sky into an amber dome
I'll think of all my friends and family
urging me to come back home.

I'll turn and walk the other way
through the valleys of the night
and let the stars be my reflection
as I wander through the pines.
The evening's chorus is different
but the song remains the same
as I wind back through the cities,
through the alleys and the lanes.
When I meet that gravel path again
I'll know I've finally made it home.
I'll see my family and friends,
and know there's no need to be alone.

What did you whisper in the morning?
Was it the cursed introduction to a tale
written in the dialect of mourning,
where dreams and satisfaction fail?

What were you singing in the evening?
Was it a prelude to the ballad of the time
that threads unwound with confusion weaving
between chiseled cracks and faded rhyme?

What did the mountain echo to you?
Was it exactly what you wanted to hear,
did you find the timbre shifted blue,
watching all the texture disappear?

What did you dream of while sleeping?
Was it a prophetic message from the spirits,
a promise offered in protection and safe-keeping
or malevolent magic disguised as lyrics?

There go the winds,
tumbling out my sails,
leaving me alone and stranded
where intention often fails.

There go the winds,
blowing down the road,
leaving me alone to contemplate
the lessons I've ignored.

There go the winds,
disappearing like a friend,
stealing away that confidence
and that wish-fulfilling grin.

Hazy dawn on the horizon,
grayish-white with yellow.
Every day when I awaken,
I stare out my window.
Broken dreams fall from my eyelids,
rest in peace on my pillow.
Robins greet me with their singing,
I wave my hand and say hello.

I've been waiting with the silence,
sitting here just doing time.
On my back and facing heaven,
watching all the clouds go by.
I've been searching for my teacher,
someone who has seen the light,
who can show me my mistakes, now,
who can teach me wrong from right.

If a voice comes through the chatter,
saying words I can't define:
"Are you doing well my child?"
Yes, Pa, I am doing fine.
I am not afraid of dying.
I'm afraid of being alive.
Joyfully I do my work now.
Doing work I will survive.

But, could you pick me up at sunset,
take me on an evening ride?
Take a trip down to the fountain
in the labyrinth of my mind.
Send me sailing through the cosmos,
set me free from my confines.
Please be careful with your timing,
I'd like to see the sunrise.

Even continents will crumble
from the pressure of the world.
The highest clouds will tumble
into twisted patterns of a curl.
Maybe the wind is screaming “mercy”
to the idle feeling in my bones,
but I only know what I perceive
and my mind is deaf to foreign tones.
A heavy soul's another burden
sailing on the ocean of the mind,
hoisted onto shoulders again
causing frayed virtues to unwind.
My thoughts are turning icy.
Frozen sheets claw up my back.
Icicles growing through my psyche
antagonize the fire that I lack.
I could be wrong for trying
to see the blues through rosy glass,
but when flocks of thoughts go flying
I watch the purple pass.

There she was sitting at the foot of my bed,
floating out words like a gun to my head:

"Everything you do's based on pride.
All that you say is a lie.

Everything you think you can hide
is made clear in the light."

Oh, I sat and stared her right in the eye.
I went right for her heart and said: "I am alive

but what about you?

Say what you want about the day and the night,
keep those words coming, 'cause they sure sound nice.

Everything you say to me
is empty philosophy.

You and I will never agree,
and that's a prophecy.

I'm sick of all your **** and I think that it's time.
I've gotta let you know, babe, I'm feeling fine

but what about you?

I'm doing what I can to be more I was.
You're limping on a crutch made of "because."

When you finally hear what I say,
I'll have gone far away.

I clearly have no reason to stay,
so I'm leaving today.

I'm heading for the shore, to cast out to sea.
I'm leaving you behind and I'm gunna be free,

but what about you?"