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I can't love you the way I did then
Can't rewrite my affection when we lost the Pen
I can't hug you like it was in those days gone
The arms are cold where they were warm
I can't cry for you 'cause I'm no longer torn
No more signs of a raging melancholy storm
I can't kiss you as passionate
But it's sad we'll never sincerely osculate
I can't re-meet you for the first time
To be tortured by my feelings for you
Can't revisit the innocence to have a review
I can't forget the burn of your goodbye
Just like the crazy moments twixt you and I
I can't replace you neither can I forget
All the same it was worth refusing to regret
Every time I write tree lines
Thunderbolt strikes
How long has it been?
Did I sleep the storm away?
What time is it?*

A disorienting headache alarms me awake,
The wind at my back nudges me to life.
Culturally removed and it's all over again.

The past can't exist here,
Childhood memories are a fiction.
Friends are forgotten stories scattered,
About my brain like the workspace of a maniac.

Am I that far removed?
Have I grown enough that I don't fill the old space?
Such elation and sorrow combine in misery,
And it's hard to believe that home disappears.

I wish no one missed me like I don't.
The man you see standing in the same door frame,
He passed through at all ages,
He has new eyes that you won't recognize.
For they don't see the world like you do.

One last country,
One last break through the clouds,
One last chance to make myself right?

Does my stack of thoughts grow taller yet,
Through dreams of experiences I never regret?
And did home stand still while I was gone?
Life, I suppose, has to keep moving on.
I have spent the past four months abroad.. And I don't know how to feel. I just want to be defined.
Life is still worth living without you

And I'm not surprised by that anymore

The sun still rises and disappears

Just like your love disappeared on me

The fields of flowers are still beautiful

But I can't help but think of the ones you bought for me

Music is still alive in my soul

It only plays your favorite song

And even though the earth moves on

It is a constant reminder of your ghost

The sights

The smells

The sounds

So how do you expect me to move on

When the everything around meĀ 

Can't move on either
 Apr 2015 Sycamore Spirit
 Apr 2015 Sycamore Spirit
and for the first time,
your voice
is the only sound.
and still,
there is music.
thoughts while using a tape recorder for the first time. hit the red button to begin.
 Apr 2015 Sycamore Spirit
Sam WG
Hey ** don't you know
I've got a stitch for you to sow
Call me in the morning I'll be out of bed
Oh yes, "You can never get too much rest!"
Half a day working at the circus
How about we juggle an English breakfast, side of French Toast
Tie my lace and tighten my waist
I'd hate to have to save face, before the birds have barked

I can't wait to see you next evening
You know I might jump off the swing early
Hit the ground running
so you won't see me coming
Well anyway I've ruined the surprise now haven't I
But anyhow hey **, it was wishful thinking
I'll still step-stone through the snow
And you know it'll melt like it always does
This is me doing my best (well, the first time I've tried) to write lyrics like Syd Barrett. By the way it's supposed to be recited like a nursery rhyme would, it doesn't sound right if you don't make it a right old song and dance kind of tune. It could be longer but I'm going to bed so I'll just post it as it is.
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