Eyes that refuse to close
Till they're red from tears
Sleep escapes, elusive most
Laughing, mocking fears
Sleepless in July, cry the night away
Every thought is broken
Torn apart before their release
Strung high up in the open
Left to crumble in the breeze
Sleepless in July, watch the night away
Evening came and left me here
The irony is that I found it
Still, with each hour near
Lost is sleep to life's bandit
Sleepless in July, till the break of 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.