mark my word as if you haven't heard
these are the signs of the times
sound the alarm
video, radio & stereo

many hearts are bleeding desperately tonight
women's liberation heading out across the nation
the get a small dose of truth from the garbage can
don't try to blame it on the man who said yes we can

struggling to make a difference in this land
there are lines being formed in the sand
man just want to stick it to the man
we have been captivated by a smile

yet we know all the great while
a woman needs to be with her child
people surf the want ads for work
yet to no avail the end up collecting

no use in forgetting
there are signs written on the wall
laughter
splendor in the grass

smile, faces, traces & movement
which way are we going
it's not in what you know it in the showing
a great gift sent from heaven above

nestled in an ovation of it's tenderness of love

She’s more fun when she is drunk
At least…until she’s not
Because she’s puking in the toilet
And regretting her last shot

She’s more confident when she’s drunk
Gorgeous and ready to score
Until she looks in a mirror
And feels even uglier than before

She likes herself more when she is drunk
Until that feeling goes away
When she is so far beyond gone
That her self-hatred comes out to play

She’s happier when she’s drunk
All her issues leave her brain
But they all come crashing back at once
And cause her so much pain

She likes the world more when drunk
It’s filled with so much good
Until one little thing sets her off
And she hates it all more than she should

She likes life more when she’s drunk
Her mind for once feels still
Terrified of losing that feeling
She soon wants to end things with a pill

But she can stop any time she wants
Or so she’d have you believe
Because alcohol makes her seem so happy
That is, until all her friends leave

i know it's only week two
i'm sorry i'm so into you
you're the reason for my sleep-deprivation
caused by an electric sensation
i think about you all the time
you **** me up, babe
i'm so high

oh, i can't believe
how much of an effect you have on me
you've put me under your spell
since then i've been going through hell

i screamed, "please don't leave me right now"
i wanna feel better but don't know how
every second without you is agony
somehow you are my everything
and i never saw you coming

oh, i can't believe
how much of an effect you have on me
you've put me under your spell
since then i've been going through hell

i swear i'm going insane
you've infiltrated my brain
i need an antidote
on my hands and knees begging don't leave
please don't

Would it be correct to say that you are the only one I see?
And though my eyes work,
The vignette cannot be cured.
I cannot see,
But I have vision.
For you and only you,
My eyes seek.
I search,
Among crowds and static,
As if, also, your voice is the only one I can hear.
As if, as well, I may only smell your scent, a sweetness
And as if I can only sense you, feel your pulse beneath my own lips,
Taste you, from your mouth onto mine,
And understand you, better than I understand myself.
You are broken, as am I,
But flawed fruits yet prove themselves to be the sweetest.

it is quiet now.

when you reach out for me,
you grab my attention.
you let me know it is real.
those moments of clear.
purely cleared. where the fingertips
come in the form of pictures my brain
cannot ignore.
these pictures are attached to feelings of One,
and I hold onto these moments.

I think of them, under the vast blue sky.
how the mountains moved with me.
how the freedom felt in front of me,
beside me, behind me. I was free to roam.
free to chose which way, again.
those moments, these were the ones
I would reload.
it is quiet out there.

once, in the middle of no where,
there was a storm.
the lightening struck down all around,
my fists clenched the wheel.
the desire to go home was pulsing
through my knuckles.
I only moved forward.

once, in the middle of the winter,
there was a storm,
the snow blowed and the road
was inches thick in ice.
my fists clenched the wheel,
I felt free to live.
I knew life would meet me on the other side.
I drove slow, and allowed the embrace.

this gypsy soul knows no home.
its the road, the path of my feet.
the beat is kept by the breeze and the free.
to explore this space might be home.
the searching for the next new moment.
learning its tone, then on to the next.
leaving bits behind.

its so quiet, the silence might be home.
I would moan into the quiet,
piercing its peace.
low, slow rolls of me.
these are the points where creation speaks.
in these quiet, lonely places.
the voice comes out on the wind.
my heart breaks free, quietly.

and again,
the blue above guides me,
I listen and fall in love over and over and over...