In many travels across this melting *** of a country I have found that every small town has it's own cast of characters every group has the ******* who cant handle
*****.
The party girl who gets crying and wishes she could start all over again.
And the one to busy living this life to give a **** about what you think or how your
feeling.

After a couple  of weeks it gets to anyone the sense of not belonging.
the constant movement  it eats away at you like rot gut whiskey.
Once even though in agony you so joyfully keep pouring down your throat.

And the conversations become the same are we but playing a game
saying whatever it takes to get what we want.
But what is it we truley want?

Comfort of a warm body by are side the feeling of flesh apon flesh.
It has to be more than just *** but out here I belive its to feel
what its like to benormal and for one moment pretend you wont  be
walking out that door to chase sun once agian.
Living like a pirate apon the land.

Not matter her body's warmth when you leave you never havea chance to
know the bad or the reallity of people.
thats why im forever a tourist.

Maybe it was the city's lights that took your
eyes from mine and lead you astray.
memories made in rythm with the citys traffic.
empty barooms waitting to create tales of another day.

Hands held tightly still can slip from anyones grasp.
Hearts filled with passion change without notice.
Old locket loves are bound by rusted clasp.

A walk to togather is so much better than one alone.
Attached by more than words.
Dim lit streets and a sometimes working pay phone.

City your cruel and unforgiving to all.
Cold as a park bench for a bed.
Tugs haunt the water over the sea's wall.

Cheap wine fire from the barrel.
The city reflects a vision of wicked carol.

So does the sun bid farewell to the day.
As the poets take to pen.
I reflect apon the citys lights that lead
your eyes astray

Shadows Apon The Floor

Music within the air memories to
heal the bitter soul.
The sounds of the past come to life
in rock n roll.

The lights from the stage.
Cast ghost's of many.
Taking us all past the pressent.
To a perfect timeless age.

Nights of passion that exist evermore.
Casting the sprits magic.
dancing with the ghost's light's
casting shadows apon the floor.

Secrets of lovers and new best friends.
We kiss blindley taseting the magic.
For that moment all is real no
one pretends.

As the night flows like a curtain apon
a gentle southern breeze.
From the floor to the legend
this night does ease.

We write are own chapters all
ading in lifes book.
Regrets should be few.
For out of this night as much as we gave
we also took.

Hearts entangled memories forever
do we adore.
Dancing with ghosts of lovers past.
Keeping time with the shadows apon
the floor.

Partys for couples new lovers and just friends.
Music to fill the night the streets of New york
breath life to old flames keeping even jaded souls warm.

The lonley gather round the TV.
sharing a glimpse at something we all yern to have.
And from the up high the streets seem magic tonight.

the soudtrack of the night will echo
into are hungover minds with a painful yet happy reminder
of last nights celebration.

Late night lovers will smile and go there awkward ways.
So many acts in so many different plays.
creeping back to are corners in lastnights suit and tie.
Tight little black dress kiss worn lips
acting happier than two kids ragged in need of a shave
you with hair in a mess.

And for friends that gather to relive not so real
past glory.
The pages are left to the writter.
To add to lastnights not so original story.

As the barflys gather to battle another unsober day.
I watch this first new day anew.
Take a sip from my flask and thank the lord
for one more year with you.

And tonight I say to you all raise that glass.
kiss that stranger you know so well.
Laugh love and live.
And thank whomever ya choose weve made it through another
year to tell.

My father worked the plant as
his father befor.
We worked until are hands bled and
are backs were sore.

History we made and many fine men spent there lives
in this very place.
Founded the union.
we are the backbone not a copperate
face.

Didnt bat a eye just said goodbye
catching the first outta town bus.
They saved there over payed *****
but what about us.

The working class people who gave there
sweat and tears.
A town inwhich the factory was built.
Old and young share bitter reflections over
stories passed down through the years.

More than jobs left with the closing
of the factorys doors.
Pain echos from broken souls.
it comes into are very essense seeps into the floors.

Years of memories gone without a
fuss.
They crunch numbers but were people.
You saved a billion but a whole town
ask's what about us?

Tired of the same old scenes around here.
Thought hey im gonna explore space.
Introduce Little space dudes to bad habbits
nudie mags and maybe share a beer.

Yeah it'll take some getting use to
anti gravity bars.
Pack up the whiskey and of course the kids
honey cause were moving to mars.

People kinda look at me like my
mind did slip.
just cause im going round collecting cans.
Hell with what else are ya supposed use to
build a spaceship.

I made a few changes it runs of corn whiskey
instead of rocket fuel.
You might think im crazy.
but when my home made rocket takes off
it'll be cool.

Say goodbye kids to your ***** grandfather Bert.
Hey darlin from up here I can see down your shirt.

It's three seconds to lift off people
ya might wanna move your houses as well as cars.
Cause lord knows whats gonna happen.
in my attempt to move to mars.

Its time for lift off crap honey do ya mind lighting
fuse.
Hey kids after this maybe we'll get a reality
show.
I mean if we dont die  that would only make the local
news.

The homade rocket ship rattle and shook.
I knew i forgot something I mean it's a minor thing.
Steering wheels are overrated guess I should have got a book.

And as it lifted off into the sky.
I screamed like a little girl.
I forgot I was affraid to fly.

Yes I kinda fell short on my quest to the stars.
cause i crash landed in New Jersy.
Well kids sorry but Atlantic City is probaly
a bit more fun for daddy that is.
So much for moving to Mars.

I am empty as the page that sits befor the flustrated poet.
Pain trapped in heart without words to put to pen.
Shaking cold knowing full well my time has passed as swiftly
as train through a midnight so very clear.

The road behind me I can longer recall.
Faces and places shallow as a drying river bed.
Life has taught me to put up wall.

Stolen moments from a welcome barstool.
One of many jesters in this fools
kingdom I do rule.

The clock of my life grows closer
to closing time.

When walk out that door it's left to others to recall.
reflect in the thoose smokey dark corners.
How many of you ever did know me at all.

Thinking of times never had.
Missing friendships that never were.
To fail means at least you did try.
The road never ends so why must I?