I've got no plans,
And nothing to do,
so I'll just hang around,
And dance with you,
Ms. Lucy.

We'll play our favorite bands,
and get lost in paradise.
I love to hold your hand,
But it's so hard to say goodnight,
Ms. Lucy.

This feeling comes bubbling from the center of my soul.
It's warm and embracing and makes the cold feel like home.
I'm not walking on sunshine, it's emitting from inside me.

to my good mate steve grigor

i know all i know is that he rode a big scooter and he was a writer

but he was a great writer, so much in facr he taught people how to write

you see steve wasn’t in the mood for staying in his body

he wanted to leave that body and enter in to another body

he was a nice man who enjoyed bowling and writing

and he used to drive his scooter all around the town

you see he taught me how to write and he taught me how to live life to the full

he probably enjoyed a beer or a coke

you see i liked saying hello to him when i saw him

and he said hi brian hows it going

i know steve grigor wasn’t this perfect little angel

but he was a man who taught us through his writing to have a joke about life

now i will give you a little jingle about his passing

it’s a shame it’s a shame it’s a shame

we lost a fine man in steve

it’s a shame it’s a shame it’s a shame

the man who teaches has passed away

i will miss him driving his scooter around this city

who knows he will probably go off to his next life with a lot of of creativity to give

this man was nice, you see he was very nice, but he had a load of body problems

and that is what killed him in the end, i will miss his howdy doody face

goodbye steve grigor

I don't want to be a clone,
With no thoughts of my own,
As if created from a mold,
Always to be bought and sold,
Never truly feeling whole,
Having just an artificial soul,
Like a mindless puppet on a shelf,

No, I would rather be myself.

If i could, i would,
Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes
And rewire them back together again,
With a spanner, in the manner,
That meant you were not
Classed as insane.
I'd unfold and rearrange,
The chemical imbalances
Within your brain
So that the years of disdain,
And self blame,
Where a thing of the past,
I'd put you back together,
In a way, that showed you,
You were meant to last.

As the snow falls
I find myself captivated
By it's beauty,

It falls with no judgement,
Landing where it may.
Snow has no bias
On this Sunday.

Everything is warm,
Colors are vivid and bright
Sunshine in my soul.