Poesia
Gets behind me and keeps giving me the shove again,
Putting rain in my eyes, tears in my dreams,
And rocks in my heart.
It's that sly ole son of a gun again,
He keeps telling me, I'm the lucky one again.
But I still have that rain, still have those tears,
And those rocks in my heart.
S'pose I didnt stay - ran away - didn't play,
The devil what a potion, he would brew.
He'd follow me around, build me up, tear me down,
Till I'll be so bewildered, I wont know what to do.
Might as well, give up the fight again.<
Losing Faith in Words
It was nothing, it came from nowhere at all, it was a casual remark,
not a curtain-call.
Late for breakfast - black coffee, brandy-laced...
that look on your face.
I'll remember last night; I'll look out for the signs;
You were caught in the light
Ref.
time after time
it's been my experience that when the row gets serious
a certain silence will fall...
But I just can't stop it, why don't you tell me what's wrong?
My heart goes like a rocket, the feeling's so strong.
I just can't stop it, why don't
you tell me what's wrong?
Don't think about it too long.
I could argue this another way, but on another day I might have to shout.
You keep your mouth shut, but it's too late for that now:
the word got out.
In translation it's lost, in desperation it's mimed;
is this Paradise lost, or Paradise time after time?
Ref.