|03-09-2008, 08:54 PM||#1 (permalink)|
Join Date: Jan 2008
I remember when I was just a little kid…
I would tiptoe down to the piano in the basement,
In the very middle of the night……....
To write undeveloped, vestal songs, ‘bout abstract dreams and ideal places,
To make memories hold up strong…...like deep, illusive faces…....
‘Till daylight crept through like a bird, ‘till my father would start to yell whole hell.….
I’d sit upon that piano bench,
Watching the stars while the sky disappeared….
Like a dream…....
Watching my feet swing back and forth while my songs…..disappeared….
Just like a dream
white and black, are you looking for the sun boy?
the sun doesn't shine down here, no, not in the shadow
|03-09-2008, 09:29 PM||#2 (permalink)|
Join Date: Feb 2008
Location: cloud cuckoo land