
Lost beneath the shipwreck
Down at the bottom of the cove
Suffering from the scurvy
With scant upon our old wood stove
No fresh water nor ripe fruit
Alone with only countless tales
Doomed with no audience nor friend
Fate of those who chase the whale
Lost beneath the shipwreck
Down at the bottom of the cove
Suffering from the scurvy
With scant upon our old wood stove
No fresh water nor ripe fruit
Alone with only countless tales
Doomed with no audience nor friend
Fate of those who chase the whale
I’m too old to chase you
Regardless of beauty, understood
Taking a step back to see if you wish to continue
For I never want you to walk away for good
Times are tough- its not easy to love forever
I can’t guess how you feel or what it will take
But silence leads to a sharpened sever
I wish to stop this inevitable heartbreak
I’m not naive enough to think things shiny & new
But my pulse is weak; unsure what it can go through
We’re allowing the modern world to dwindle
We’ve neglected love & now slowly it dies
Crashing back to from where it came
We’ve messed up this most recent of our tries
A fragmented society in this world of hate
Our streets filled with torch bearing vigilantes
But I’m choosing compassion & joy
I’d rather chase you around in your scanties
Transparent dresses hanging in the mud room
Saran-Wrapped for mild protection
Eyes closed to foreign tales
Tempered thoughts of stifled affection
Painted prose with regurgitated eyes
Our dreams left choking on the floor
Scribbling beliefs with thick gouges
Manufactured truth with cries of Nevermore
Redundant weight of classical heroes
Forcing us into bastardized Groupthink
Yet my mind still wanders to her opaque passion
Chasing her dragon with endless ink
Upon awaking
I find my face littered with pixie dust
With no possibilities of faking
I’ve been visiting paradise, I trust
Off chasing adventure in the streams
& you thought I fell asleep on my book
Neverland is not only in my dreams
But these scars caused clearly by a hook
For whom the Bell Jar tolls
Chasing demons down the dark hall
Scratching an itch until it bleeds
Beyond a fantasy that wasn’t there at all
Never letting the imposter take hold
Growing larger in our own impression
Sizing up unquestioned confidence
Surviving in spite of a soul’s transgression
Chasing time down a rabbit’s hole
Knowing there’s no way to go on back
Don’t look that way, it’s a mirage
Ghosts aren’t known to be tracked
But we seldom heed our own advice
Reason vanished into our past decisions
Demons try to cling, but they don’t exist
For these antiquated memories are mere apparitions