Month: October 2010

Tumble

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a bird in the hand ain’t spit to me
you give me one i must need three
enchanted by insanity
my dirty glass is empty

can’t find the dime i used to keep
and now i find i’m losing sleep
but in the morning all i need
is four bucks for my coffee

lost my religion years ago
to a song i used to know
but i don’t need a god to tell me
that the mountain must give way
to the river in its day
even roughest rock can shine

so i tumble, tumble, tumble

i’m lost among the muck of men
so i’m changing up my meds again
i’m nothing if i lose my pain
all the colors look the same

i’ve buried all the evidence
i’m sure i paid my penitence
so now it’s simple common sense
to pass along the blame

lost my religion years ago
to a song i used to know
but i still want god to show me
that the mountain can give way
to the river in its day
even roughest rock can shine

so i tumble, tumble, tumble

Turn It Around

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My spirit says, when I’m moving around
With no place to lay my head,
Just go back to the beginning.

My spirit says, when my heart becomes blind
And cannot see its way into tomorrow
You must go back to the before.

But what about the before?
What about the beginng?
Were they not once a treacherous terrain?
And what about today?
What about ever after?
Tell me what makes the rough places plain?
I’d ask it of me but I’m already lost.
I’d just let it be but release at what cost?

So for a time I’ll turn it around.

My TV says, in a couple of days
My country will be at war,
it’s a matter of survival.
My leader says I’m a victim of chance
In a crossfire between good and "other"
The answer must be in defense.
(or did he say revenge?)

But what about the rage?
What about all the people we could
lose to fury and fear?
And what about the greed?
What about all the dollars
Spent to make me believe all I hear?
I ask it of me ’cause I’d like to begin
To release my defense, find freedom within.

So for a time, I’ll turn it around.

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All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs. Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, “Oh, why can’t you remain like this for ever!” This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end.

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