Monday, April 21, 2014

write something

I sit up and write
Rubbish to a T
Searching for the words to my song
That just won’t come
Relate to, and bear all
But I don’t speak through anything

Play you something sweet and sound
Play you up undone and unbound
They’ll all go on thinking you’re something grand
But it’s up to me to make that stand

There’s a gutted inkling
Standing in my doorway
Poking me in the ribs
From ten feet away
If you see him around
I can be found somewhere nearby

All of society is walking around with
Broken hearts
And walking down the street,
I wonder if the pain in my knee is
Just mental

Sometimes the dream is so close
It almost trickles down your throat
But in the reality of it all
I could love you to the ground
And get absolutely nowhere

Hopefully we’ll all stop playing telephone
With rumors floating around
Strange human nature
Can’t feel the air if I don’t keep moving
Don’t know where I’m driving
But steady breath will keep me going

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