Somewhere in the sands of time,
I hear the sound of a faithful cry..
from a bird with broken wings
who sings "my hope will never die!"..
His chances are less than average.
He's a candle in a hurricane.
Still he bows beaneath the storm
and he sings louder amidst the rain.
He knows what he'd become
if it were not for his broken wings..
He'd probably make a nest of thorns
and fill it up with shining things.
He might say "I'll sing tomorrow" -
But tomorrow might never come..
And the only awful song would be
a song that he never sung.
And what would he become
when his soul no longer sings?
So, he sings his songs of gratitude
all the more with his broken wings..

Incubus Drive
is when me and the neighbours fall out
it's not just the volume
furniture moving bass
but I have to sing
full shout
I know all the words
you see
cos I played it
so many ******* times
it's ingrained on my beer brain
all my inhibitions
blown out
I'm on stage
in front of the microphone
air guitar
I'm no Brandon Boyd
but by Christ I'm on fire tonight

To the dancer in the dark: what you do
isn't a walk in the park.
So don't be afraid to let someone
shine a light on you.
To the singer in the shower:
you know as well as anyone
how music can heal.
So let people hear your power.
To the sketchbook artist:
one person's trash is another's treasure.
So, please: don't throw something away
even if it doesn't give you pleasure.
To everyone else:
you all had dreams at some point.
If you're friends with artists, respect the hustle. Respect the passion.
Help keep the dream alive.
Because dreaming is still
how the strong survive.
But they can't do it all alone.

I listen to your heart
Beat in rhythm to the rain
Pouring out somber melodies.
The world drapes silent,
Where your eyes sing
Meteor shower wonders.
Sometimes,
It feels too much to grasp,
Tied to an endless
Invisible string around my palm.

A couple days ago
I’ve checked up on you.
I admit, even though I’ve let go,
I couldn’t miss out, had to
See your last show.

I had to know
You’re alright.
You don’t sing the bridge like you used to.
Or maybe it was just that night?
Do I care? I don’t know if I hope that you do.

Since I left, I’ve become fuller.
Therapy helps and yes, now I can see.
I was such a stupid woman.
I still am, it’s that now I can breath and just be,
I don’t break upon hearing your name.

I’ve checked up on you, I admit.
You were laughing, dancing and smiling.
I’m so glad that I did what I did.
Despite that lingering, horrible feeling
I can’t shake. I still care.
I still care.

I still care.

sing or read, we play to **** time
you want to go through the day
when you have time to miss me
sing or read, and the game is just silly

take this rule:
we don’t even need to tell nobody when it begins
just like a gist of feeling, you just know it,
also when it ends, you know it ends
(and i quietly hope you won’t go when it does)

how come you read my mind, or so i imagine it,
blue is the color of the shirt of the man i love
sing i said, i laughed and won,
long live our love and reign

do you think you will remember these days?
you have to look it up on google and it’s nowhere
sometimes i look at you and wish you’d listen and understand more, like i hope you’d be - a man in mind

i said it’s a read, i thought you lost the game
(you lose the game and i’m the one who feels defeated)
and you say, it’s just a game
and i think you’d forget these days

brow creases lightly
piano sings a soothing song -
fingers in their turf.

i want someone to notice the way i laugh at the wrong parts of movies
and know what weird thought i had about the scene
to hold my hand and kiss my dimple and write about how witty i am
we can joke about it every time we rewatch it

i want someone to read to me under a fading sky in the wintertime
as our breath curls around our throats and it's hard to keep their voice steady
but the words are pretty, and so are their fingers as they wrap around my hair
sylvia plath for the darker days,
robert frost when the sun starts peeking through

i want someone who will dye my hair in shades of pink and green
our noses curling at the scent of the overwhelming bleach
laughing hysterically as we get high on the fumes and try to be quiet when we hear my mom's footsteps outside the bathroom
i'll cut their bangs choppy to match

i want someone who will sing duets with me to a blown out car stereo
as we drive aimlessly through the nights of this ghost-town-to-be
i'll steal the aux cord more than once, and mess with the windows like a kid
but they'll tolerate it because they like the wind
almost as much as they like me

i want someone to dance with me in the rain like we're in a bad romance novel
and enjoy it anyway because it smells like promises (and i keep those)
we can waltz badly and laugh until it hurts to laugh, and then we'll just sway
i'll splash them with puddles and they'll splash back harder
and we can ditch our clothes and get hypothermia together

maybe one day i'll want them enough to have them

but for now i'll watch movies by myself and still laugh at all the wrong parts, knowing that i'm weirdly clever

i'll read poetry in my own voice under the grey sky cut open by leafless branches, because it's pretty

i'll dye my own hair and cut my own choppy bangs and i'll feel untouchable

i'll scream 'bohemian rhapsody' by myself driving down main street in the middle of the night

and i'll just wait for it to rain so i can catch in my mouth and pretend it was a kiss from the sky

Loosen your

Chains,
Brains,
*****,

Your vowels
And your bowels