We fall like the
Leaves in autumn time
Bruised and battered
By the wind as our
Descent takes us away
To a place where
We'll make our home
Again, again, again
So when all the
Streets are lined
With souls scattered
You came and found
Me, one in the red array
And held me with care
Reminder I wasn't alone
And then, and then, and then
Well, that's it really, want to finish the story for me?
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.