Saturday, 29 May 2010

jazz hands

I hold music close to me, two hundred songs rest in my palm.
Each one an escape out of this cold world to one more warm.

A room got closer last night, while outside there was a storm.
We laughed at a grown man-child who was unable to conform.

(The child doesn't hear so the child isn't here
The crowd doesn't know so they only cheer)

Lighting bolts across the face, changed since you where born
Meaning i have to step my game up trying hard before dawn.

Look behind i've left a trail, impressed all my women scorned
it's how you remember me, my movements will forever be- burned
into memory.
Thunderfooted she's in a race, bright like a light-bolt i learn
That in order to go the right way i need to lose pride and turn

My own self is more myself than all of them, stars in stardom
my mind's sharper than a nineteen fifties middle america lawn

Towards myself that's the only person i can ask for help,
burned my memory of everybody who told me how to be
what you escape to isn't your world, you must see what i found,
it's like falling twelve feet onto solid ground like being unable to pay your round
would any other fall? would any other call another a fool? how many would try to be cool?
I am looking at no one other than the man in front of the mirror trying to stand tall
true inspiration comes from your own connection, I'm not as good but still proud im not them.
not neil youg, bob dylan, joe budden gaga nor em, not thin lizz never was led zeppelin
tell 'em i tried but can't be a pretender and at that i've never tried harder yet still lost
i realized the price was my own life and truly i knew i couldn't afford afford the cost
if you're ever stuck on stage- realize they're watching you
so make sure no other impression of another will do so do you!
like i do!