The words flow
Decisions made
Ideas mine
But the inspiration dies
Dreams of hanging on
Dreams of getting well
Splinters in the eye
Bones will never rest
It was never up to me
And yet I pushed until it broke
I love the open road and all that it suggests
We are wagon dust
Weeds of infidelities
Always follow along and never question why
In a wooden house, immovable and silent
Forever lost in time
And thru the sleeping streets
Night bound and dreaming
No shadows have we
Now my gates are high
My friends are even higher
A garden in my mind with stars that linger on
My heart is pointed down but my spirit pointed up
Behind this paneled door
I play my guitar and live those lonesome notes
I often speak of you
But the you is always me
Because when i speak of me
Its me I ask of you
So let there be no truth
Just trickery in rhymes
A child is who I was
A child is how I'll die
