-What do ghosts and black out have in common?
-It's a very odd mix with some very good timing.
-like the all is the one and the one is the none
-or like when the bell tolls deep in yo' soul; it echoes
-like after all the drama you're on your way home
-"now before I ask you this please keep in mind
-I've walked this earth before your people created time
-I've led billions of souls and lost some along the way
-Speaking to different walks, they all had the same to say
9-"mr reaper please leave me alone, I cant believe my names in stone
-cuz i have to show Tommy right from wrong
-and Mary's learning how to keep the bloodline strong
-I'm a father of 2 and husband of twenty
-I know I can't go since my namesake's filthy
-it took a life time to break it and another just to fix it"
-"so time is what you need, yet time is what you're out of.
-as we go with this flow think, what's your namesake made of"

everything is a circle
progress is a joke
i promised you i'd quit but still
i smoke and smoke and smoke
you told me that you loved me
i promised you the world
but you ran off for another
left me to grow alone

A full Samovar
for one cuppa cha'
seems like
overkill.

10, 20, 30 years from now
we would know each other.
And remember joy and sorrow.
We’ve seen small victories , many defeats;
horror has left its scar,
but more so our helplessness,
both here and afar.
Once you’ve seen the truth, you can’t go back,
but nothing seems to go forward.
If only I had the belief
to wait a hundred years in an afterlife.
I know it can’t go on, this strife;
someday there will be an end.
Seeing you now reminds me
that if I live to see that victory,
I will remember, then,
how I was once a small part of it,
with you, my friend.

Tomorrows dreams,
broken seams,
crystal thoughts,
binary noughts,
lust for life,
edge of the knife,
warmth of the soul,
colour of coal,
retreat to within,
wrapped up in tin.

The cows came in twice a day and
usually for milking,
sometimes if it rained they came in anyway
looking for shelter
looking for hay

I used to sit and count the ears on a sheaf of corn
wishing I hadn't been born into this,
wishing that Julie Andrews would kiss me
instead of **** Van,
then I grew into the man I am

a city man with a city street plan mapped out in my head.
thinking always thinking that this is being dead or something,

anything else before I tell you how much I miss those cows and
that corn?