the echo ran along the wall
across the dew moist grass
and fell like a plea upon my ear
the sky was bruised to a deep blue
and as i fell to a dizzy thought
and found myself on my knees
isnt it strange we never notice
the pavement till we kiss it
and i frenched this piece
her southern belle voice
reached down into my dizzy thoughts
and with a strong finger grasp of her will
pulled me back to reality
and up off the floor
lest a skeeter get 'cha
i humbled a thanks
and together we made the parkway
the echo danced a little
ballerina twirl on my eye socket
for half the night
sky beginning to clear like my head
after all that deep winter snow is thousands
of miles north and a million years from here
the flashbulbs start popping
as some celeb wanders by
catch his drunk eye
and without having to say so
he wished he could swap places with me
as the camera hounds followed him up the road
poor slob
lest a skeeter get 'cha
the echo
waited in the denver snow
and followed to the motel down on broadway
where she probably still waits for me
to come tapping on the door
but that town is far behind me
and for that im grateful
her thin pale white hand
trembles on your arm
and she looks up at you
with a clear desire to be heard
push your yesterday
but your strength waxes and wanes
as versions of yourself
echo down the wall
across the dew moist grass
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 8:41 PM UTC
the echo ran along the wall
across the dew moist grass
and fell like a plea upon my ear
the sky was bruised to a deep blue
and as i fell to a dizzy thought
and found myself on my knees
isnt it strange we never notice
the pavement till we kiss it
and i frenched this piece
her southern belle voice
reached down into my dizzy thoughts
and with a strong finger grasp of her will
pulled me back to reality
and up off the floor
lest a skeeter get 'cha
i humbled a thanks
and together we made the parkway
the echo danced a little
ballerina twirl on my eye socket
for half the night
sky beginning to clear like my head
after all that deep winter snow is thousands
of miles north and a million years from here
the flashbulbs start popping
as some celeb wanders by
catch his drunk eye
and without having to say so
he wished he could swap places with me
as the camera hounds followed him up the road
poor slob
lest a skeeter get 'cha
the echo
waited in the denver snow
and followed to the motel down on broadway
where she probably still waits for me
to come tapping on the door
but that town is far behind me
and for that im grateful
her thin pale white hand
trembles on your arm
and she looks up at you
with a clear desire to be heard
push your yesterday
but your strength waxes and wanes
as versions of yourself
echo down the wall
across the dew moist grass
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