seven years ago almost home coming over the bridge from a show in The Windy City we hit the ice

she always turns a light on when she thinks of me checks under the bed to see if i left behind a kiss

fallen from the nest mother bird leaves me to die never to take flight

it is not often that i think of peace or of the soldier i believe war is inevitable

time reduced to ash all the clocks were made of fire burning each second

i drifted onto your shore a withered vessel the skeleton of a ship torn sails draped over masts like dead bodies

the darker the room the more I needed her she was scented with tobacco and cedar

in the final moments of dusk you r… a last grab at redemption to no possible avail toward a jury of stars and the judgement of the moon

youth in his favor with young wome… a whole world ahead of him but the silly son of a bitch doesn… instead of seizing the day he spends his time obsessing over…

i am my own ghost i am haunted

it was the hottest new spot on the east side of course and of course

coiled in a moment of wonder to ponder the venom of his existen… remembering every instance that he prepared himself to strike with no recollection of hatching

tire takes the pirate seeking lost treasures of sleep sails into goodnight

squandered precious gifts laid down for worthless fortunes when men turn soldier