Category: words

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somewhere

I keep on breathing and the seasons they turn.
The light bid me farewell, linging last on a girl.
So make me a list of the things that you need –
A lifetime of memories captured in stereo.

Somehow, somewhere, somehow, somewhere

Now we reflect on the things that we’ve been
And I dot the i’s and hope you will cross all the t’s.
Sharing our stories and daring to dream.
If fortune favours the fire that burns inside (then)

Somehow, somewhere, somehow, somewhere

I’ve been too tongue tide to say how I tried to be.
No time now, perhaps this is just a dream.
If I cry these tears will be so hard
fought that it could mean that maybe i’d go

Somewhere, somehow, somewhere, somehow…

If there’s no finish line what’s with the speed?
The joker he took all the first borns and taught them to ski.

Somewhere, somehow

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your man

A lone silhouette reached for the sky
in the first light of a cold winter’s day
and Tuesday crept up silently to my bed.

I woke up in a pool of my thoughts,
my dreams had been spilt on the floor and
I lie here not knowing which way to turn

And all that I wanted to be was your man
Don’t know how I let this get so out of hand
Think I might go back to bed until the phone rings

The lone silhouette left with the sun
and clouds they rolled in on my day.
And the silence between every step that I take lingers on.

Today was my birthday, my friends they have called.
I’ve got cake coming out of my ears.
But it would have been good to hear your voice as well

‘Cos all that I wanted to be was your man
Don’t know how I let this get so out of hand
Think I might go back to bed until the phone rings

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the last time i saw david

The last time I saw David was a cold autumn night,
and he was looking older than his years.
Told me I should visit come and see his home and wife
I don’t think we have spoken since that day.

When I was much younger he was standing by my side.
A crucifix hung round his neck and fire in his eyes.
Told me about Jesus Christ and ways to live my life
so that I’d be freed from my sin.

I don’t care for ministry, no I’m not taking sides.
I don’t recite the good book, I read between the lines.
I don’t long for heaven cos I don’t believe in hell
and I don’t think that I need to be saved.

I sat down with the bible and I read it line by line
I couldn’t find anything to help me ease my mind.
Then the local vicar ran off with my neighbours wife
leaving both his kids back at home.

Well it keeps some happy and it helps some others sleep
if they think that Jesus watches over when they dream
but I don’t ever plan to get down on my bended knee
and bow my head before his altar.

Chorus

And in some quiet moments I remember being fourteen.
Late nights with the vicar drinking beer instead of tea…
I’m not sure that god had much to do with him or me.
I wonder how he’s doing nowadays.

Chorus

The last time I saw David was a cold autumn night
and he still wanted to tell me about his Jesus Christ.
But nowadays I’m not so plagued by my sin and strife
so I just smiled then I walked away.

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these days

This morning I woke, restless and heady,
with blood pulsing fierce in the vein.
There’s light on a line, this morning and maybe forever,
I move with regard for the signs.

You know I search my heart to prove
there’s better ways to push and pull,
but hey whatever gets you through these days.

And somewhere to the east the sun is stirring,
starting to light up the sky,
and I’m lying here reliving the last few days
cos I missed most of them the first time.

Chorus

Did I disappoint you? Leave a bad taste in your mouth?
I thought that we could. I thought that we would.
I was mistaken.

Chorus (quiet)

Chorus (full)

Outro climax then fall apart

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a poem for lucy

Running on adrenalin, many miles from home.
Alone in her room with a fledgling young poem.
Craving to capture the stillness and calm,
felt as I lay by her side.

The morning arrived without saying too much,
in the silence we talk, bodies warm to the touch.
Delivered to here from the eye of the storm.
Contentedly hid from the rain.

A week now is past, many things to express
and I lie in the sun, now rewarded with rest.
I press on my pen and the paper receives.
We both hope that she feels the same.

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shacklewell

The sky wept freely
As gravity ushered watery needles back to their source.

Two naked eyes looked on at nameless faces
Playing fleeting cameos amongst the cold concrete set.

I savour the sights, the sounds, the smells,
And the silences between my steps;
Each one, a step closer to my evening’s dream-soaked conclusion.

And down those stairs,
Behind those curtains,
And through that door
A hundred unimagined scenes unfold
With a nod, a stare, a shiver, and a glance;
Each moment a tapestry of gestures
For which my tired bones are grateful.