Fred and Wilma

Leaves blowing around your front door

Meet the stoneage with a modern name

Hanging out in the tropics

Taking time to enjoy the scenery

Enjoying the sunrise

Over the deep blue

See?

Finding my courage, lost at sea

Or so they say

Denial of the past places

Where I visisted under a different name

Wounds needing care now a wall of refusal

To see

The way you were before

Blisters on your feet

burning memory

held in my body adopting a twisted cadence

To the rhythms of this stormy sea.

Without a rudder yet refusing to grasp the wheel

Rumors of fear shadow any hope

Of what lives down below.

Even God only knows

the coinage at the bottom of the wishing well

keeps Him at bay.

But I'll weather the storm

Rebuild with an eye to the watermark stain on my walls.

Walking the tightrope just takes practice.

The stoneage has nothing on me.

move the trees

move the treeswhat

Doing time

Tide on the rise

Sand light, brown mixed with gold

Covering once jagged rocks to their tip

Daring memory of what was

Cool clear water

Blue hue walks hand in hand with the moon

Rhythm harsh and grace filled

Beckoning the faithful

Warning the bought and sold

Come sit a spell

The lap bar just came up

Traveling the white lines

This must be the place

below the cracked side walk

Cliche'd diamonds on the water pierce my heart

What's it like to be found

in the eyes of an innocent child?

And the light keeps pouring down

Gray storm to the north

Wind blowing reality

against my skin

Who can break the spell?

Some prayers dwell between my breath and heart

I hear a sneer outside the garden

The dust of the ground signals my return

How far can my eyes really see

Ego loudly pleading case

Sour soul pushing toward light

While the band plays all your favorite songs

With the memory of who I am

As if throwing kisses,

So that I can go on