So here we are
Desperate for a
Little compassion
To find its way
Across the stars
And wipe away the
Tears in loving fashion
Then hope it stays
You sneak out at
Night, to take
A little stroll
Searching the alleys
For anything that
You can make
Into a heart, your own
To fill the valleys
I followed you
Traced every pace
Slipped ahead when
You almost fell
In time to catch you
Quickly fade
In darkness then
So you never knew hell
So there we were
Broken whole again
Not one or two
But a thousand
Pieces of hurt
Gone, and then
I turned to you
and said aloud
[I think our moment's now]
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.