Staring through glasses with no lenses
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At a tree climbing the sky.
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Our father seems to have lost his senses
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As he stands before our burning home
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With an olive branch in one hand, the other holding circumstance;
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Evidence, if you will…
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Gasoline dreams from a wishing well.
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I was so young; we were so innocent at a time when innocence made sense.
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The flames laughed at us as I held you in my arms.
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Youth would not be wasted on us; we both have come so far.
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What have I become? How could this have happened?
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I was so careful, I wore the garbs of a saint with stained-glass cufflinks.
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I’d forgotten what I was looking for.
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Power is flowing but the bulb is blown,
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I have no faith to call my own.
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With an olive branch in one hand, the other holding circumstance;
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Evidence, if you will…
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Gasoline dreams from a wishing well.
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As I stumble onto broken knees, screaming at broken sleeping ghosts
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On a hill with three trees…
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The royalty is coming for my loyalty.
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Even Carpenters make mistakes, measure once cut twice.
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I am so very apathetic.
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You abandon me.
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Cradled in my mother’s arms, my reserves have been set free.
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-----------------
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Pangolin Dreams
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| A Girl A Gun A Ghost |
