Heavy lids
sleepy heads
crazy kids
yearning beds
hearing sounds
language known
holding rounds
heads are blown
stripes of white
seas of blue
gold's in sight
and so are you
nodding down
almost out
through the town
hear me shout
a silent yell
a forward stare
a wrongful sell
I've gotta bare
take the turn
pay the pain
feel the burn
and break the chain
No comments:
Post a Comment