Sometimes I feel or get the impression
When I am trying to reach inside my own wrinkled mind
Cob webs there...
Unspoken dreams wafting through the open casement of my life's last defense
Time gone in clouds gone by.. No essence
And my heart cold and tense. So, what do I do?
Meander thru wicked fields with mines laid down by you
As I pass, pieces of me fly off, bit by bit, bric-a-brac
Poof - gone..
No longer strong
I'm still here listening in on your yet unwritten songs
Sipping from your potion of sorrow
As you point the finger and blame me for my discontent
With shadows past and future suns on the horizon
And me, this body, burned out along the side of the road