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Sep 2013
and that shadow passes
like shadows do
and i drift awake to find your smile waiting for me
grab up whats left of our castle of sand
and explode onto the road
cause tomorrow never shines as bright
as that special yesterday
like a penny that gets tossed
like a shinny piece of rain
it just keeps fallin and flying
keeps the heart going
and your smile is all i really need
don't know where we going but we going in style
you wrapped in your Tye-dye blanket
and me in
my Walt Whitman hat
we gonna dance on distant beaches
we gonna tickle eachother on far off mountain tops
we gonna cheer the world on
from our armchairs
and smile for all the beautiful things we can find
cause shadows always come to an end
and that shadow has nearly passed us by
so lets grab up our bits and pieces
and see where that road takes us
see who we can find
baby lets dance on distant beaches
tickle each-other on far away mountaintops
and sleep in the forgiving arms of foreign lush forest

there is some nineteen twenty's blues
playin far too loud on the turntable
and there in the distance
a train horn lends itself to the moment
i run off a few lines
that are just as empty

looks like heaven
but its not
the world is no different
here than it is in your silent room
i would give anything to be there
in your room
perhaps we could talk till dawn
bout George Sanders
Charles Butterworth
and all the big ones
pills
he shot himself
pills
car accident
pills

jez left this morning
she said she needed some time
that relationships are too complex
and she needs to think
and didn't like the idea that
i don't want to marry her
i think
i just no longer have enough faith
that she or anyone could stay
not trade me in for a needle full of drugs
not trade me in for something faster newer
a better model

there is no magic left
i can still dance on the sand till the tideΒ comes in
but there's no magic
shopping carts chase
but its just a lone set of strings
played slow
and deep
like tears

there is some nineteen twenty's blues
playing far too loud on the turntable
but even the five bottles of wine
haven't set the past out to sea
think i should go now
before i say something foolish
mark john junor
Written by
mark john junor  59/M
(59/M)   
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