I held my wife's hand
The year was '86
Reagan was the president
We jammed.
To the rolling stones and styx.
We made love just below the stars,
The stages were all jumping.
Locking chest to chest
A bird in nest
Making eggs from something pumping.
My heart.
It created the shell, that our children have broken from
My kids are growing older
My poetry is silence mum's.
But now no more mum's the word
I'll rock it out on paper.
Getting older I look at the past
And go back to a time I savor.
86, the year of flicks
And times magazine.
86' wish you didint go quick,
At least I met my dream.
She made love to me
Under the stars we made.
Created kids from our birdie shell's.
Now I'm relaxed, retired.
Payed. Now I savor you
86', reminiscing the good old days.