Listen to raindrops fall
I thought I heard to let it go
Sadness in an old song
And my heart is letting go
To me, I’m still beating there
Go back, take the slower track
In a mind of losing me
I called out to a golden eagle
Take me to the sun
Today I ran today I run
Today I found a trail
Through a suffering forest
They call Ancient Wisdom
I led my heart
Through the roots
To place it at a base
Of Old Man Beard and his setting sun
That bled my raindrops dry.
Listen to raindrops fall
Where you bled upon my bed,
I cut out and left to air.
Which I did not care!
No, I did not care.
Into the furthest mirror I did look
To find no other but reflection,
Which mattered to me because
I built the house upon flattery.
I’m perfection left uncovered,
Laid down without much affection.
Broken by a snake
And the absense of power.
If I should sing to let it out,
Let mine heart come before my throat.
Should I to throw it all away,
My guard so closely held to me,
So tight thy clutches keep it by,
That even I can scarcely cry.
It fills the rivers, flowing high,
With demands; spent at last.
Where should I take to plan again?
If never again to hold thy hand.
But my sorrow does not weigh thy down,
It chases thy mind, late at night.
Curling it’s distant cries tightly
Around mine enemies to bring them near.
For you have neigh been gently to
The brow of which is mine to frow.
Like dandelions reach’d a state decay’d,
A tiny orb of gone with the wind,
Gently swaying to and fro
In the cool mornings dewy glow.
For now thy knoweth why
I sigh into the songs I sing,
Why I shall carry upon my back
This choice of burden, this gunny sack.
It holds the damage done afore,
It bleeds the blood that once before
Bled about my conscious’s sleeve.
But swept away like wind that’s come,
It’s found it’s way: burden upon my back.
For when I speak to hear mine words,
What beckons my mane to question thus,
Are simple words, beseeching thy:
If not for I, whatever for, dear?
For if not for I then what is left?
Surely there must be something abreast.
If not for me, what good is thee?
Have I becometh thee traitor’s guilt?
Have I been loved by an unformidable cloak?
Damaged doth my thoughts become,
Left to stew about in gloom.
So out! Be gone with it then!
Let love be gone, at once have truth,
Make speed to return here once more again.
For I shall find in my path tomorrow,
A heart that fills my heart still more.
So let it end, this ghastly sorrow.
Be off with it then, gone in the wind.
Swept away in a million dollar bills
Gone, gone in the setting sun
Lost over the horizons laid to sleep
Forgotten in the solitude
Bled dry, of all it’s remaining life
Until then, then will there be salvation
I stole your dreams last night
Midnight robbery without a tip
I rode the pony down to its knees
Dreaded the walk through the rain
I pounded the earth with bloody hands
Leaving behind my conscience
Sucked dry of all sense
Did you plow the field before you reaped the land?
Road-trips pull me away from time
Lands I’ve never bled dry
Spoiled meats and canyon jerky
Deep kisses and soiled sheets
I may have been sleeping when I wrote this
But I was told to hang my head and cry
I may have been aware of the anger ahead
But I was watching my back for a lifeline
I may have been worried about the future
When I asked you to cover my steps
I may have been dreaming of another place
When I asked you to marry me
But dear angel that floats on so high
Come down here a while and bless this guy
Perhaps the snakes and candles will entertain you neigh
Perhaps the passion now present will never die
I may have cried all day long
For a woman who had been gone so
I may have worn out the sweater of lust
To a song that had never played on
I may have bled, maybe