Fuck the experts
I need some resident advice
This may sound tense
Or absurd
But rather I need
A fresh word
Of silence and peace
Some perspectives
I can not reach
Come and stay residents claim
I need some time
And some resident advice
Ticking clocks in the restaurant
Subtle feelings exposed
In the wee hours
Of the night and morning
The ticking clock
Stays on time
As the time flies by
Goodbye tonight
Goodbye sweet place
Sweet trace of all that is good
Is in that old restaurant
Made of a weekend
Made from the days
Adding up
In a grey winter haze
A Sunday can come
In an easy breeze
And be off
Off in ease
The holidays are here
Confess and spend
Move along
In the holiday rush
Not one moment held up
I miss the city
The life
As I once knew
The flow of a city day
Pushing of the crowds
Always focused ahead
Never time to look back
The city life
Steel trains clang
On the railways
Of the G train
City life can be heard
Before anything is felt
Good god
Bring back the good
Goodness
And wholesome
There are people
In a force of fields
Helping reserve the goodness
Out of the bad
And the full great
The good
Help bring back the good
I sure wish it would
Debt monsters
Under the hood
Of the sleek designs
Of frivolous world
Debt monsters grow
While we sleep at night
We wake up early
How we will be alright
Debt monsters live
Under the bed
Searing for you to fall sleep
With sharpies of red
Debt debt debt
No longer can they get
Debt monsters wait
Until the prey is set
Don’t let them see you
Pass by at night
Make it past the debt monsters
And you might be
Alright
Landing in vain
As the planes take the tarmac
Insults thrown away
Into the faces of unsuspecting
Leaders and friends
I guess this story goes
On
With no exact end
In vain
In triumph
I am lost for words
How a man confused
Has a position
He earned
Deputy soft
Had not much to say
The evening
In dispute
Remembered but far
Away
Played out over
Few too many
Drinks
Or tips of the glass
Deputy soft
Hardened
His grasp
Pulled the vagrant Parton
Into the corner
Don’t cross this man
When he let up
The old man ran
Adorned with counter praise
Easy in its ways
Don’t let the words
Get to your head
Listen instead
To the symmetry of
Past
Learn lessons
From others
Let Ear’s guide
To sensible solutions
Counter praise is just
Pollution
A Cup of Songwriting 