on the banks of the
mighty south platte river
he lay prostrate to the twin gods
with his dogeared copy of deadbase open to his first show
and the touch sensitive sky full of magic colour
raise your arms and think that madness is only as
deep as your devotion
dances barefoot on the empty road to the crickets song
ain't it sweet ain't it strong
our friends lived in lean to and
city's of cardboard
at the rivers edge
in the cool of the railroad breezeway
but he lived in the brambles
and on the sandy beach
listened to the vastness of night
dances barefoot on the empty road to the crickets song
ain't it sweet ain't it strong
his voice still echoes in my mind
as he introduced fast fingers to the skin of sky
trace out the silhouette
of her form
near as he can remember
which ain't too near at all
but his words
resembles free form skull and roses
looks like habitat for the shady
but it rolls clean
and has a kind hand for the friendly face
he was always up for a trek through the city sleeping
dumpster diving and sky laughing
always had little extra warm gear for a cold brother
always had something to chew on for
a hungry sister
always had tunes a flutter
ready to roll on the deck
one day came to the rivers edge
and brother was gone
we searched high and low
but time pass
and river flow
he never did come back
picture him somewhere
dancing barefoot on the empty road to the crickets song
ain't it sweet ain't it strong
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 8:16 PM UTC
on the banks of the
mighty south platte river
he lay prostrate to the twin gods
with his dogeared copy of deadbase open to his first show
and the touch sensitive sky full of magic colour
raise your arms and think that madness is only as
deep as your devotion
dances barefoot on the empty road to the crickets song
ain't it sweet ain't it strong
our friends lived in lean to and
city's of cardboard
at the rivers edge
in the cool of the railroad breezeway
but he lived in the brambles
and on the sandy beach
listened to the vastness of night
dances barefoot on the empty road to the crickets song
ain't it sweet ain't it strong
his voice still echoes in my mind
as he introduced fast fingers to the skin of sky
trace out the silhouette
of her form
near as he can remember
which ain't too near at all
but his words
resembles free form skull and roses
looks like habitat for the shady
but it rolls clean
and has a kind hand for the friendly face
he was always up for a trek through the city sleeping
dumpster diving and sky laughing
always had little extra warm gear for a cold brother
always had something to chew on for
a hungry sister
always had tunes a flutter
ready to roll on the deck
one day came to the rivers edge
and brother was gone
we searched high and low
but time pass
and river flow
he never did come back
picture him somewhere
dancing barefoot on the empty road to the crickets song
ain't it sweet ain't it strong
((pretty sad spellcheck that dosn't recognise the word "dumpsterdiver"))
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