
Hearing the horns blow
Words formulating up front
The notes mean more
When the tone is blunt
I scratch out a song
Finding life between letters
I’d quit while I’m ahead
If I knew any better
Hearing the horns blow
Words formulating up front
The notes mean more
When the tone is blunt
I scratch out a song
Finding life between letters
I’d quit while I’m ahead
If I knew any better


Waking early before the morning
Monitoring the world, as I sip my achromatic brew
The front window, my porthole to beyond
From this security, I decipher what is true
I try to formulate tangible creations
Converting inspiration into mere words
Observations from my suburban perch
Sharing stories with Poe’s bleak-hued bird
Writing down the secrets she might share
Enlivening my dreams on this quiet block
Churning thoughts into hopeful spools
In which might allow my mind to dynamically unlock
The freedom to move is vastly underrated
The need to take refuge in the open air
Release yourself from these modern bonds
Get back out there if you still care
I reject their basic version of normalcy
Those rules don’t apply as formulated
Reality was never calibrated for us
Mere common folk to be granulated
Refusing to remain quiet is necessary
Return to nature – turn off that broadcast
Be elusive, for they’re coming for you
You’re necessary as long as you have a vote to cast