I looked for the eyes in all funny places
Dark alleys, sunny spots, following traces
Skipped fresh years playing the fool
But I couldn’t fool my own truth.
Played those songs, fell for words
Ended up drained, wasn’t the first.
If I stop knocking will there be an
empty hall
If I start shining will they turn heads
to the wall
Is this how life is, they love to touch you
when you fall
Climbing is for lonely ones, in the middle
no one calls.
Don’t have to try no more, compete or prove
them wrong
Read between the lines in any of their songs
He knew I would make it and was never really
gone
I've almost let them take me, he was right here all along.
A.B.
 |
| Art print by Los Tomatos, ''The boy who stole the moon'' |
No comments:
Post a Comment