Tom-Tom driven rocker. It soars to the heavens and brings you back home.
copyright 2006 Dave Christensen/IMOKUROK Publishing(ASCAP)
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fiogf49gjkf0d NOTHING
THE JUKE BOX FADES INTO NEON HUM
EVERY NIGHT THIS ROUTINE GROWS DUMB
NOTHING HAPPENS HERE ANYMORE
JAM A STONE IN THIS REVOLVING DOOR
I HIDE FROM THE SUN CLOSING THICK DRAPES
COMFORTERS BURYING MY FACE
REACHING FOR THE PHONE TO FEED MY NEED
FOR OBLIGATORY APOLOGIES
NOTHING
NOTHING
THE BOSOM OF THE UNIVERSE BRINGS ME HOME
TO NOTHINGNESS TO WHICH I BELONG
MOMENTUM OF THE LAVA LAMP HAS SLOWED
SITS AS A GHOST MOLDED FROM SUNSETS
GLOWING RED ON MY WINDOW
THE MEMORIES OF BUMS, BUSSES AND GULLS
MIGRATED FROM THE COMPLICATED BLUR
TO THE SIMPLE FASCINATIONS OF THIS WORLD
THE GRASS IN MY BACKYARD IS JUST AS WET
AS AN EARLY MORNING CITY PARK BENCH
I’M GATHERING MY ENERGY FROM THE LIFE
OF THE MOON WHICH IS BORROWING ITS LIGHT
THE SUN, A COUSIN OF THE STARS
WHICH KEEP IMAGINATIONS LARGE
WHICH KEEPS INSPIRATION FLOWING ON
IN THE PERMANENT BARRAGE OF GOINGS ON
EVERYTHING IS HAPPENING, HERE WITHIN THE SPHERE OF NOTHING
THAT EXPANDS EVERYWHERE
I’M DREAMING OF A MESS OF TANGLED BLONDE HAIR
WET FROM THE DANCE, TOTALLY AWARE
OF EVERY BEAT, EVERY GLANCE
EVERY INCH OF LIFE THAT SHE CAN GRASP
GRAB ME, HOLD ME
HOLD ME WHILE I SLEEP
I WILL SLEEP SINCERELY
IN YOUR HEART’S SIMPLE NEEDS
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