Mar 2013
Staring at the minute hand
For hours waiting on
Night to slur their howls
One in the pack follows the other
A Roland for an Oliver
Come hell or high water
For hours waiting on
Night to slur their howls
One in the pack follows the other
A Roland for an Oliver
Come hell or high water
So I revised this poem to be lyrics in a new song I wrote. I think this is a boiled down version of what I want to say. Perhaps it could be longer.
