slow dancing in a burning room

sometimes you just want to keep going. stopping is not an option. when time runs out you just chase the phantom down the street. and you catch it and hold it tight…

guitar solo…
a strobe light
in a smoky room

ten dollar cover

no one knows how i feel. not exactly. sometimes not at all. you can talk and smile right over your pain. you can. the way sandalwood burns filling the room with the fine scent of a well lived life. half closed eyes see it all.

at the abandoned
asylum for the insane
i let myself in

leaving a shadow is all

so attached to this body. but at the end of the day or the end of time we just leave the faintest trace of ourselves. todays best ideas were hatched a century ago by a farmer smoking a pipe in the field after a long day. like a stone in our shoe they just reappear down the road of time and we pick it up and the lesson begins again. knowing that nothing is. is a comfortable feeling for me.

sundown
confessions dance
on two left feet