V1.
Sitting here, waiting for the train
My final train, to get me away
From this place, these hopes and dreams
That never existed, figments I made
Of my desperate imagination
Clinging to the impossible
Wishing always, for more
And yet afraid of the line uncrossable
Now here, the next train to come
Not for hours, hours on end
Leaving me here, with thoughts undone
Thoughts undone? All of you, dear friend
V2.
Open the eyes of clouded thought
Dreading every waking moment
If, by chance, it was me who caught
You, would you love me, past and present?
Each fear I have of countless hours
Racing away from me
I hide inside of self, no power
Keeping each secret dear to thee
After all is said and done
When the train has finally left
I still sit and wait, at the station
For you, my friend, with baited breath
[The words become harder and harder to write, in the knowledge that the work's intended reader, will never set eyes upon it. Till another day, another day.]
Studio B
- Mark
- When you need to wake up in the morning, and set the right mood for the day, when you need to escape from the overwhelming everything of life. What do you turn to? How do you describe your core without speaking aloud, without having to talk to someone about it? This is how. Music. Lyrics. Poetry. Do you feel it? Do you? It's here, it's everywhere, locked within you, within the most tone deaf of us. It's begging to be released, become unleashed in a tearing chord, a crying melody, soulful harmony, dying lyric. You feel it yet? It's concealed here, within every word that I write. This is my release. I want you to see it, to feel it with me. This pure expression of every tangible and imaginable emotion known and unknown to man. To me. Welcome to The Window.