Her soft tenderness
Can be ******* a man
When he's used to bricks
Mortar and sand

It'll shake the foundation
Built with his hands
Leave a man aching
For all that she has

She can tear down the walls
Erecting his years
Where he once had a cause
Now tossing his cares

Knows that it's true
Without a word being said
Her soft tenderness
Can be ******* a man

She can catch him mid-stream
Have him change his mind
Make him want to leave
All he's built behind

Pulls him to shore
Beached in her warm sand
Her soft tenderness
Can be ******* a man

*******. I really love having them,
I have no trouble raving about them
And have categorized them accordingly.
Just a few have ever affected me boringly.
But mostly they were those I did alone.
Still I managed to get into the right zone,
Later, if I didn’t like the outcome of the game
I really only had nobody but myself to blame.

But it is always better when there are two
Then some cuddling and kissing when through
And if there seems more we want to do
We can start it up all over again, anew.
Of course if an ****** is the entire focus
We may not prefer a repeat with the both of us.
Still, it's possibly good to strongly suggest
A another college try turns out the best.

Who can deny that great feeling one has
When the activity changes from waltz to jazz
And two people manage to forget everything
And let the muscles and the juices sing;
Take our minds gratefully to another place
A blissful, mindless, animal kind of space,
Appreciation of what it means to be a beast
And be glad for that moment then, at least.

Those who tell the young kids to beware
And do their well-meaning best to scare
The young from being what they really are
Are following a teaching that is bizarre
When it tells you some crap about god
Thinking *** is something sick and odd.
People should get on with what they need.
The Puritans were wrong, so pay no heed.

a grassy knoll
shots rang out
left a world in fear
with a world in doubt

we watched Camelot
suddenly pass away
on the harsh streets of Dallas
54 years ago today

as the 60's arrived
newly on the scene
hello nightmare
goodbye american dream

on that fateful day
it all fell apart
shot a hole in our souls
left a hole in our hearts

when on that grassy knoll
shots rang out
which left a world in fear
to a world in doubt

There's a battle that most folk will fight
When old age slips onto the pavement
It's weapon of choice you will find
Is that of sleep deprivation

You lie awake in the middle of night
Tossing and turning on the edge of your dreams
Insomnia its battle cry
As your white flag is torn apart at the seams

With your mind like a kite in the night breeze
Flying this way and that with your lack of sleep
Too far behind the enemy lines
To even find the help that you need

While you'd love to sneak back over the border
Into the comfort of a soft feather bed
One good nights sleep is what the Commandant's ordered
So as to rest your weary head

Still the battle rages on nightly
The enemy both sneaky and sly
In whose grip you will stay as you lay awake
With insomnia as its battle cry