painted and vacant lies the soul of my city
A beat of a heart that sounded of youth,
of faces and dreams that have done all but shattered,
of faces and dreams that have done all but shattered,
scattered and worn like the weight on my shoulders, and the toll that is taken on the words of my father. Boarded decayed we lay out the offerings of dog eared books, teachings and religions, gathered through time, life weighed in possesions that take me further and further away from my passions. Tired I sit and stare at the papers, plans that I made at a younger time did not take account eyes that are greying or tomorrows departing with no arrivals, a soul that still fights beneath all the burdens, a mounding pile of valuable garbage, a heart that longs for someone who can make things more clearer. A walk in the clouds down near the river and to know that my song will not be forgotten, realizing inside it has never been heard.
