We were chasing Our Desires, in the Middle of the Night. On the Waves of the Ocean, the Moon shown it's Light. Her Boat began rocking, the minute I kissed Her Lap. My Hands went for a Stroll, all around Her Map. It was below Her Waist, where I lay My Head and began nurturing Her Spot, as She lay moaning in Bed. Early the next Morning, We touched the Shore. But My Woman whispered, that She wanted some More.
Our Nights have never been, so Romantic Before. When U are in My Arms, I can't ask for anything More. U unwrap your Feelings, by the touch of My Hand and pour out your Passions, like the Grains in the Sand. As We go rocking Our Bed, on sheets that are Blue. Our Nights turn Wholesome, Our Dreams come True. I keep touching your points, under a Blanket so Warm. U Moan like the Waves, that are caught in a Storm.
An old man sits in an even older rocking chair. His skin was midnight, as was his hair once upon a time When it had adorned his head Within its very curl was a diamond, a ruby, Like the crown of the richest king
But now the only thing that curled Was his back Hunched in that old chair You couldn’t tell by looking at it But it was once a strong body
Yes, the old man was young once He was strong, He was beautiful He was proud As he should be
But he was too strong His exterior was that of ice and steel Not the fieriest touch Nor the most jagged of cries Could penetrate
And he was too beautiful His boisterous laugh, his perfect smile Most found loud Obtuse And blinding
His greatest sin was his pride He thought himself a mountain Indomitable But when the valley burned All he could do was watch
The old man sits in the even older rocking chair Weak, ugly, and disgraced He once dared to think God was proud to have made this body He wondered what He thought of him now
well I was sitting out back underneath the stars Take in a couple of swigs play a couple of bars Wonder where the time went and who's praying for me I know somebody's gotta be praying for me.
So I'm feeling faux pa and bored with friends angry with neighbors lonesome crowded winds blowin me down like an eight mile island I can't see out of the car I'm driving but I can tell the future's not exciting I work tomorrow then I'll strum my guitar but not much to keep me out of the bars cept poverty **** and writing in cars
So now I'm sittin out back underneath the stars Take a couple of swigs eat a couple a bars Wonder where the time went praying for you I'm Still on my knees just praying for you
Well I don't know what I'm talkin about Just wrote a couple songs and I'm spit'n em out Ain't worth $hit and my brains on drought but I, Should I, Reason my doubt...? I'll drop a couple of classes I'm going for broke Hit my head on the bad lands buried the Pope stuck my nose in the air like I was downing a Coke When I woke up in evening I hadn't gotten too far They took an empty spot next to me at the bar
So Sitting out back underneath the stars Take a couple of wigs take a couple of cars Wander in the barn house pray Mr. Blue huffing the Gasoline Praying for you
Funny when you predict your own future...and this is an old tune of mine. Goes something like this.
The funny farm is the place to be. We have soft beds, prescription meds, and cable TV. When we party, someone loses their job, or they might lose a limb if we form a mob. It's one of those places you want to find yourself. Electroshock is fun if you bring pop and chips. Careful being around us, we're bad for your health. Best of all, we're about to set sail on our blanket ships. To the unknown and out of room 213! Quick, hand me the bleach, I want to feel clean!
I have had many fine experiences, but this is driven from one of my friend's experiences.