Is there a science
To the perfect day
From start to finish
No other way
Of looking at the same
Pieces to the puzzle
Hiding from the fears
Embracing the struggle
These are the acts
Behind making the most
Of the moments we are given
The wide eyed ocean
Breeze
Filled with salty
Vibes and evenings
Long and cool
Into the night
I close my eyes
And feel those
Wide-Eyed Ocean
Life
The old county
Where I grew up
The straw north
Outside the state park
Where you could hear the rides
At night
Off the highway
That creaked in the evening
And cracked at dawn
The fields filled with
Corn and life
Back on
The other side
Waning night
Evening gone
Morning later
Will bring the dawn
For now I rest
An easy soul
In my heart
And growing old
Religion in sound bite form
Looses something
From the depth
Of a northern light
To the quick selling
Famine
Plight
Not even good
Or alright
Express religion
In its cheapest form
Saving graces
Running all over the human
Race
From one to another
Just a word can redeem
What was once lost
But now back
In seen
On the town
Their is a place
To go
When the world grows
Weary in your eyes
When the sun rises
Feelings anew
Coffee in New York City
Is the best place to remember
That life is a continuum
Of the new and old
When the world looks back
To say thanks
For all you have grown
Sick shoes
Nothing new
On the road
Out of fuel
Hold on tight
As the fever passes through
Saturday sun
Fades to a Sunday moon
All comes up
And gone too soon
Days filled with autumn fall
Upon my eyes
Not one
But all
In a parking lot
West of town
Water falls
Straight down
Into the puddle
On the ground
Into the swells all around
A Cup of Songwriting 