the words flow, decisions made
|
idea's mine, but the inspiration not
|
dreams of hangers on, dreams of getting well
|
spells of Ezmeralda, emeralds foretold
|
splinters in the eye, sentiments remain
|
bones that never rest where we going to
|
it was never up to me and yet I pushed until it broke
|
|
I love the open road and all that it suggests
|
wheel wagon dust, weeds and infidelities and
|
always for a love, never question why
|
in a wooden house, immovable and silent and
|
drinking strawberry wine, forever lost in town
|
and through the sleeping streets, night bound and heavy
|
wheels in the spoke still spoken for himself
|
|
now my gates are high, my friends even higher
|
forgotten in my mind, yet the sky still linger and
|
cloud the blue skies, I'm jealous of you birds
|
was the only truth in a world full of words
|
hear the prairie sound in a friend called near
|
the heart is pointed down but my spirit pointed up
|
his voice for siren of Greek mythology
|
|
I pause with my pen, I begin to defend
|
every action taken, every moment sealed
|
when I was quick it coursed through open veins
|
the will to live the urgency to move
|
behind a panel door sealing cherry stain
|
I play my guitar and live those lonesome notes
|
|
like a dog that's down
|
in a corner just a sigh
|
waiting to be called
|
waiting to be yours
|
ghosts of all my shame
|
without purpose or will
|
|
I often speak of you but the you is always me
|
cause when I speak of me it's me I ask of you
|
so let there be no truth just trickery in rhymes
|
time the only thing waiting still as death
|
|
I hope for resolution, pray one defining moment
|
pause without restrain, barren without child
|
a child is who I was a child is who I'll die
|
a child is who I'll die
|
soot in my hair
|
and stars in my hands
|
soot in my hair
|
and stars in my hands
|
soot in my hair
|
and stars in my hands
|
|
-----------------
|
Soot and Stars
|
| Smashing Pumpkins |
