All my wishes, they manifest too soon.
Here we go again, the same dance; slow.
It left me there, under the bright blue moon.

Your promises fly by as loons,
signaling me in my cue to go
All my wishes, they manifest too soon.

The world's music of the night held me to swoon,
so, I missed the bus to your show
It left me there, under the bright blue moon.

I hope, I cry out to the beauty of that blue moon
for a chance, maybe these versus may flow
all my wishes, they manifest too soon.

the strings I play hum a broken tune,
but the breeze is forgiving, bringing me those tears in the sky that glow
It left me there, under the bright blue moon

Now, I share a meal with the sister of noon
sitting lonesome and caress the grass below
All my wishes, they manifest too soon.
It left me there under the bright blue moon.

Strike a match and I will burn
Becoming the fires that rage in Hell
With the molten ocean waves that churn.

My love is passion and I yearn
I must break free of this prison, this cell
Strike a match and I will burn.

Watch my heart as it begins to turn
I screamed and gasped as I fell
With the molten ocean waves that churn.

Maybe I will never learn
But what I've seen I will never tell
Strike a match and I will burn.

My heart claims it will not spurn
And that my feelings for you will not quell
With the molten ocean waves that churn.

These feelings I have worked to earn
I have finally cast my final spell.
Strike a match and I will burn,
With the molten ocean waves that churn.

Do it for the love of thee,
The fatigue and wisdom of teaching,
Vest it to them and let their minds be free.

Hand it through pedagogy,
Though exhausted of standing and talking,
Do it for the love of thee.

Pass the values forgotten by society,
The pearls and artifacts impossible of seeing,
Vest it to them and let their minds be free.

Praise them for practicing courtesy,
But scold until they are breaking,
Do it for the love of thee,

For they should learn that life is tricky,
The truth that people are forever coming and going,
Vest it to them and let their minds be free.

Teach to continue the legacy,
For the future needs more heavy crafting,
Do it for the love of thee,
Vest it to them and let their minds be free.

How long behind Bob Dylan’s Shades—
smoke furls and curls among the glass—
before a man belies his fame?

The corner of the room pervades—
imbued with smoke if so to pass—
How long behind Bob Dylan’s Shades?

Visage so cool but starts to jade;
will eyes see through and to surpass,
before a man belies his fame?

Caught in the great aesthetical wake,
the fans will bend and surge en masse—
How long behind Bob Dylan’s Shades?

His words, his voice, depict a sage—
I wonder if the lore will last
before a man belies his fame.

But once the petals cease to sway
and blades blow back a pompous ***—
How long behind Bob Dylan’s shades,
before a man belies his fame?

Open your eyes for a dose of oxygen,
Smell a world with tears and spice,
Whose child is this down the doorstep.

You sleep with your fast growing collagen,
Recovering the jet-lag of the unknown I surmise,
Whose child is this down the doorstep.

Yet to come the tag that latches on to your origin,
when living each day has its invaluable price,
Whose child is this down the doorstep.

Will you belong to the cigarettes and scent of gin,
Or shall I see you chase dreams left to their own device,
Whose child is this down the doorstep.

There might be peace or violence had here you been,
You could be a well-built fortune or a random dice,
Whose child is this down the doorstep.

And I am witnessing this, without sorrow or grin,
Wonder, distress and an expired love that will suffice.
Open your eyes for a dose of oxygen,
Whose child is this down the doorstep.

The thing about you
is that you’re pathetic, too!
Forgive me, I’ve had a few.

Five drinks in you start to spew,
"I think it’s true,
the thing about you

that left me no one to live up to."
I should have said what we both knew:
"Forgive me, I’ve had a few."

Instead I send a needle through,
by means makeshift voodoo,
the things about you

that drown me in a root beer brew:
those ******* eyes of fizz and warmth and Xanadu
and please forgive me, I’ve had a few.

So, I hex you in that way I do
when I didn’t ask to hear your view:
"WELL THE THING ABOUT YOU–

Forgive me, I’ve had a few."