I live up in a room
Two stories from the street
In a building made of bricks
In the 1970’s
There’s carpet on the floor 15 inches thick
There’s popcorn on the ceiling
Makes me king of sick
There’s one big window you can hear the city crying
I can hear cars screaming
I got fears creeping in
When I near the point of dreaming
The gears grind again
It wakes me from my slumber it takes me from my rest
The goddess of sanity shakes me from her breast
She throws me out into the streets with the leprechauns fighting
I don’t know how I got here
I don’t know how to fly
But I won’t just wait around here
Getting old before my time
Unshaven and unclean
swaying with the tide
Shaking in my bones
Aching for a sign
I’ll be taking up my soul
Starving in this land of plenty
This ain’t my home
No I ain't free
Why can't you see
Its misery
this ain’t my home
I guess I should a kept on moving
I could have been so free
Like a wooden soldier marching
Like a Buddha on the beach
I’d be sipping on a cocktail
I’d be skipping in the sand
I’d be grinning like a child
With candy in his hand
I’d be sending out postcards of sunsets wild and empty
I’d be sending out postcards of sunsets wild and empty
I’d be sending out postcards of sunsets wild and empty
Whilst gently paddling along this glistening river with the sun warming my back I found contentment. At a peaceful spot I set up camp and breathed in the beauty........."I think I'll stay a while" I said to myself.
Thank you for this peaceful spot Mr Henderson :0) Martin Shields
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