Back west
I can feel the dry air
Dry throat
Coated with sand
Sun
Back west
Feels like a place
I should come from
Back west
I can feel the dry air
Dry throat
Coated with sand
Sun
Back west
Feels like a place
I should come from
Would you care to explain
Why the wind blows
Why the clouds rain
In times of trouble
In times of success
Sometimes the simplest of words
Helps to explain it the best
The world will dredge on
Day after day
Enjoy the moments
Take one to play
I can’t explain
What I don’t understand
Why even bother
When life falls through
Like the hourglass full of sand
Wait or go
The simple questions
We must know
In moments and in time
We either run away
Or hold our line
Wait or go seems to ask me
What do you want to be
Hold on into eternity
Wait or go
Go
Before the shows start
When the wind is in lungs
Breathing
Letting go
How the world knows
Taught me
To let go
Be free in moments
Free in thought
Freedom from dampening
Overwrought
Tick
Tock
Tick Tock
The helicopter chops
The lazy air in the sky
In pursuit of some woman
Or guy
The traffic slugs on a different path
While some thief is running fast
Los Angeles on a random Saturday
This is Los Angeles any day
Today
The sun burned sky
Falls to a dark night
Taking us again
On the Los Angeles ride
Oh New York the prettiest of
American Ground
Oh New York
With your concrete barriers
Bustle sound
Sweet rainy nights
Looking over the Queensboro Bridge
Oh New York
I long for the days
For once I lived
Let it out
Like the springs of a midwestern lake
Filling a giant whole
With a reserve of water
Let it flow
Like East River
Of the Hudson
Rolling into the ocean
Up the state
One more thought on this theme
And we are off
Off we go
Competition can be the thief of joy
Stealing expression
Sealing contention
Competition is fun and vital
But not always what is needed
Not always right
Competition can run the life
Out of expression
Tried
After the lights fade gently away
A new morning brings new life
New hope
New vision
Letting go of the past
And beginning again
A grey off colored late morning
The pendulum of metronome
Clanks from within the construction walls
The paisley building stand
Juxtaposed to billboards and lights
The creamy paleness of the Queensboro Bridge
Speckles with lights and cars
Crawling slowly over
And crimson and white lines smoke
Stacks litter the sky
Industrious
Illustrious
The east river is covered from sight
The land filled with energy
Motion
Magnificient architecture
Glistens well into the night
A New York view
New to me in a way
But still the same
And true