Poetry is not coming to me
Nor becoming of me
I'm sorry
Its just a humdrum life I lead
There's always somewhere else I'd rather be
Remembering all that I've lived and breathed
The memory comes back to me in a melody
The city's doors are opening
Begging for us to begin to step in
So come a little bit closer to me
Let me see what you see
And you'll see what I mean
Jealously holding hands with insecurity
We dilute the purity
And when it comes to you and me
There might be someone else I'd rather be
I’m giving up my right to be free
To live vicariously
In this fading night's softened reverie
I’m giving up my right to be free
To live vicariously
In this fading revelry
I like to pretend I have a really talented friend who recorded this album as a gift. That's what it feels like; a gift from a stupidly close friend. sherryking