Happiness cannot be boughten, nor sadness be quenched in a day
Life is an ancient road, eternally beaten and trodden to stay

I looked
at my heart
asking it,

how is it possible
that I can love again?

and my heart's
only response
was a beat,

turns out that
all along
I had been breaking
because I was still alive,
my body was fighting
for me,
even when it felt
like I was dying.

It’s hard to put into words, the amazing feeling,
you’ve instilled deep inside my weary heart.
I look into your penetrating eyes, and
my passion collides with your emotion.
Is there something different about our union?
Does it feel like a dream come true to you?
This connection that came on all of a sudden,
shocked my heart into a new way of beating.

It took a long time for us to unite, it’s like I fell
for you in just one night.
I feel deep warmth inside of me, which makes
me happy and finally complete.
We saw each other every day, and never
once did I feel this connection.
With autumn approaching and the wind
turning cold, I feel you deeply rooted,
and embedded in my soul.

the beat
the everlasting
never-ending pulse
the heat
dreaming
no music but house
city lights
teasing, fooling around
shaking through and through
i feel the presence of the sound
although i have no clue
pulsating within me
vibrating around
that's how i like my music
fast and furious
as a hound
tearing the silence apart
melodies go for a twist
owner of a lonely heart
never lost in the mist.

Each dull wheeze
— half-glass-filling lungs, tarred —
records my moments
like reel-to-reel tape
And the heart is a quivering branch
If not a paperweight
Pinning will and testament to the
desk

That plastic wine “glass”
turned out
to be
glass after all
My woman throws me punches
with the gentle touch
— all the virility —
of a little, lonely, old man
feeding bread
to ducks
Then goes to work on the meat of her hand
with the glass
Damages the nerves in her thumb
   tussle ensues
My arms are covered in blood
That two-penny copper smell

sister’s fella has anger issues
and wants a straightener
Tells me I need a job —
Is this not work?
If I had Molly’s blessing
I’d go to work on this *******
But she’s crying
And begs me not to
Begs him to calm down
I wanted to widow her
Her
And my bleeding wife

Music the folder
and holder of sound

Rhythm the binder
that winds it around

Lyrics are papers
where meaning is found