Dreams died with the grave
Only one can save,
City of angels and bright deception,
In the drudgery of daily is the forgery
Of the great mystery,
Long socks, short shorts, exposure is
Not so sure, rolling stones in the night,
How does it feel to live not so real?
Tank of dreams, tank of all that seems,
Tank in me is on empty
Poet spoke, who wrote it?
World exaggerated,
Truth exacerbated,
All have gathered to see you on
Stage, respect me cause I have the
Microphone and I can’t think twice,
But I am up at night trying to get it
Right, torched those thoughts way back
When, furnace affair with what she never did
Share, beach days and fireworks, moved in closer
To you, closer to love, blonde and white, sand so
Tight between those toes, you still have made the
Tank, but now I walk the plank, I see the sharks
I see them swimming down there,
I will not waste the sunlight,
I will let it expose my darkness,
I will live more than I will think-
Its a furnace affair, in me today
And burned away tomorrow-
Don’t just think
Just live