Sit a little while here with me
We can count the stars
Sitting in this lonely tree
See how they shine, shine afar
There's one for you, one
For me, it's that one there
Falling down, down from
The blanket of night's stare
This is beautiful, nothing but
I wish you could sit here
A little while for once with me, just
Not care about our fears
Yet I know you're away some
Where I can't reach you
Beyond the stars, you've run
To another's arms, after all we
Have been through
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.