Wednesday, April 14, 2004
A moon shines overhead
my fingers bite and grab the bed
where she lay
where she lay
It was like synthesised orchestras
Futurama, crying harder... my head
under the pillow
under the pillow
And the calming of stormy thoughts
whispering away the tears
come back again
crying eyes again
I get up and walk out
into the hall and out the door
Patio life is wind in my face
Birds asleep and ants at my feet
Endless life no matter if I'm here or not
The stars bouncing off the darkness they surround
Little pinpricks of sound
Perpective needed for a brighter day
Maybe a drink
Maybe a drink
Or Two
I think it will
I'll go inside again
I think a drink or two will wash it all away.
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