Playground


There are tears that fall in the ocean
and tears that fall from the sky
there are tears on the faces of loved ones
don’t ask me
I can’t tell you why.

In this blitzkrieg I see only compulsion
and the desire to see so much more
In compulsion I see my destruction
Tell me
what is it all for?

I look but can’t find
perhaps I am blind to what stares at me in the face
but the forest’s no place to play hide and seek
it’s so dark and so bleak
and the creaking of trees become the creaking of decks on lost ships on high seas
and I am so weak
can’t be bothered to hide or to seek any more.
Tell me
what is it all for?

Is it the lust that burns deep within, for a pipe of tobacco and a pitcher of gin
and do I win when I win or is it the gin?
I lose some
choose some
confuse many
any one could
which brings me again to a knock on the wood for luck.
Feck..
..superstition time
yeah that’ll do me real fine
let me throw down the runes in the ruin that I am
let me talk to the man up above
let him lend me some love
let it fit like a glove.
but send an umbrella
the tears will come
they always see
another self fulfilling prophesy
that ties me in knots and would haves and could haves and I have lots of excuses and ruses 
and time on my hands
life’s metal bands have put me in chains
Link by a link of the words in the ink and bound by a round about
where I never get out
to begin again and to sing again
caged birds
caged words
tired lions
in irons
all in the mess of a life.

I confess it’s not good
in the forest you’d think I’d at least see the wood
but blind again 
I find again
only the dead bits that fell onto dead ground
and round and round I go again.

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