Thursday, November 8, 2012

flying south for winter

The days the birds fly south I can only walk slow
Slow like I have all the time in the world
But then I remember my only invitation is home
On days like these I can't blame the birds for shitting on me
I know it all steams from pure confusion
I've become part of a scenery with no moving parts
A weathered park bench with no place to park
It's when I notice the breeze on my finger tips and the tress breathing
In a world which can nail you down if you let it catch you sinking
That I find it hard to find my way home alone
 
Tender be the hand, to farm this land
As I walk with no place to go
Tender be the hand, to lay mines in the sand
As I follow bread crumbs home
 
If you can't count your friends when you're off the clock
You should find a new job or thank your god you have one
An associate till the bitter end, in payment we will bond
It's sad when a bar stool seems welcoming
When a night alone lost in film seems like a night out
When the alarm clock is the only reminder you have someplace to be
Like how fear of dying alone reminds me to die slow
 In a cage in which my obsessions rapidly mate to a point of my own critical habitat
A fine wine aging to be an adolescent youth, a new-born body in a state of decay
A tired heart begging to stop, scared to share the disease from which we rot
 
Tender be the hand, to farm this land
As I walk with no place to go
Tender be the hand, to lay mines in the sand
As I follow bread crumbs home
 
This can it holds something, I'm sure I'll find it at the bottom
If not this one the next one, drink 'em till you don't got 'em
My attraction is a dime store romance
A modern day heart full dodger
I will love you until my belly is full
Pack you a lunch and ask you home
The pressure of my pen stroke, should tell you this is no lie
I will camp for you to be first in line
Wait patiently for that moment our last love bell chimes
And tear you limb from limb with my words every time
 
Tender be the hand, to farm this land
As I walk with no place to go
Tender be the hand, to lay mines in the sand
As I follow bread crumbs home

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