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The Sleeping
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Sunday Matinee (Reel to Real)
Scented a rose, and as the shocked machines still scanning pavements screen, ground with siren eyes. Sounding through blinding sight. Piecing of pieces fit. Shifting the overwhelming. Fault lines now open.
Now I can't forget (buried in pain and thought, just because i wasn't there)
Slide show incarcerated with grief and I know times have changed in our eyes. That's for sure, so I quit. This is bad news another album going nowhere, going nowhere.
Now, without you, I can't.
Eyes, slides are spinning. Toss, the ground is gone, dizzy and overthrown. Slide my feelings, my eyes away.
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