August 10, 2010


Posted in Poetry/Lyrics at 8:54 pm by bizarrerhymes

Down, up, gold, around, swirling town,
Heck, you’re playing on my emotions like a twelve string.
I want to pass the middle eight but I need the bridge,
I don’t like it when you put me to the test.

My colourful Warszawa taunting me like a débutante,
So immature and naïve but sucking me into her
Den like an inviting female spider cagoules her mate,
Using his seed before he sates her more primitive need.

But this rambling has to be tamed and cured,
We must sit down with a piece of paper and pen,
And map our mind to find a relationship between
Heaven and earth – the simplest of answers.

Straight line curves at the end of my sight,
Thank you Lord for music which is given and received
For beauty which is seen and perceived
And for the greatest of Faith, Hope and Love.


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