We all meet up
Down by that old
Black muddy river
To see all the angels

They come to bless
Us through the night
And gift us tea and wine
And open up the sky

So the heavens can sparkle
And enter each and every
Persons eyes
And open minds

The cosmos bring us
A night of love, friends
And memories
All during that night by the

Old
Black
Muddy
River

I was just in my shower after a long time away from it.
Thoughts scattered and fell over and
I felt like The Dead
fumbling at the start of Morning—
—Dew in the Lyceum
in London, not Athens, before
it all makes sense again

I converse with the insane,
And I see dead people,
I seek no fame,
Or salvation from church steeples,
I am alone,
Yet in my head we are many,
A clamoring of voices,
Above the anarchy of it all,
This world is broken, a place where life is a gamble,
And familial bonds are broken down in shambles,
I am a grateful dead, of a time long forgotten,
And like that I shall remain, till my bones are long rotten.