A cigarette in hand,
I sit back in my chair.

The sun pours down
like a waterfall.

A dog ahead,
Lies down on it's back -
Like a turtle on it's shell

He's laying down,
Joyous and gay,
thinking to himself:
"Gosh, what a beautiful day"

A breeze flows by
to remind us all:
that the cold days gone,
And all that remains
is the waterfall.

I recline back,
and take a long drag,
And I tell myself:
"Gosh, what a beautiful day"

First you publish,
people clap and cheer.

"There's some skill,
and a hint of mystique."

So go ahead writer,
go sit at your desk!

Pick up that pen,
and let it dance on your page!

But as soon as you start,
there's a creeping doubt:
"Maybe..
this was my peak"