What is it i’m really writing

So i cant play the left and right hand together on those black and white keys. I know the strings of the guitar, i have two, yet i cease to find the time to learn, so in the hope of picking up the very things that fill our ears with imaginations of our own, i shall start to write ramblings, which i hope can one day resemble lyrics, which, if good, might be a song. This is probably the most backwards method but then perhaps thats why it might just work for me.

erh, hmmm. lets start.

NOT KNOWING WHERE YOU STAND

i’d like to take a holiday inside your mind

 i know theres things i’ll find

 that can make this all come clear

 the very thing i fear

 of never understanding you.

WAITING TO TAKE ACTION

if i havent said or done

dont assume i havent loaded that gun

as im holding tight

waiting for when it’s right

the right time to save myself

from the trouble you could cause my life

i catch your eye

fireworks coloring the sky

a smile quivers on my lips

waiting for your kiss

your at arms length

no defence

your mind undressed

your poison scent

LISTENING TO ONES OWN BAD ADVICE

were so close to something left unknown

between what i do and i dont

the trouble is with the choice

in listening to that voice

that only mentions no

 

 

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3 responses to “What is it i’m really writing

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