Look how I care
Look how I pour
Look at what I share
Look how there's more
Look at the newsfeed
Look at internet ******
Look how people breed
Look at ISIS gore
Look at mirrors
Look for new wars
Look beyond years
Look at the poor
Look for your peers
Look inside drawers
Look behind you
Look down at the floor
Look nothing's new
Look at the front door
Look for the parts
Look inside your
Looking-glass heart

We sat, we talked, we sang in rhymes
Then listened to the girl by the lake
All night long she’ll talk and chime
About the man on the moon

He’s tall, he's short or what you may
He's wild and crazy and loves his time
He dreams of kids and sends them sweets
He listens to your stories when
It’s night here but bright on the moon

The innocence of the night
Pure and bright
Filled with bliss,
The wind dost hiss
It was cold that night as the waters’ kiss

The stars were sparse
In a vat of darkness
I stared with a purse
As the face of the moon
In ripples dispersed

We sat in circles as she told the riddles
Whisht! She whispers
The answer’s calling

Blank and void
My mind was young
Her eyes had lit
But my eyes were little

What’s your name?
Her voice was kind
I stared and smiled
With a vacant expression
Wish I knew I rubbed my eyes

Slow and steady the night crept
Darker and serene
The lights reproached
Down my spine a sharp cold went
I knew I've had the collywobbles
But why I thought?
Oh! My blanket’s been moved
I must've kicked it in my sleep

She smiled and hugged me
Kissed my forehead
If you don’t know your name
I’ll just call you mine
I grinned with comfort
For I loved her so
And all I dreamed of
Was the girl by the lake

a boy, on the corner of Confused and Lonely
holds a cigarette in his hands, unsure of what to do
but hopeful that it'll make him happy;
because at the end of the day that's all anyone
ever wants to be
a girl, lipstick smudged, sunglasses broken and wearing
a shirt that was much too small, her image screams help
but apparently the rest of the world is deaf when
it comes to these types of things
they meet at Sunset Blvd. where women wear
skirts high and the men get even higher,
she's stumbling home; not drunk, but not sober
and the boy asks her if she's okay, she says yes
he then asks her how to light a cigarette because
it's been a week and that pack is burning in his pocket
screaming to be used and he had watched
a commercial on t.v. the other day but it hadn't changed his mind
so here he was, desperate to find out how to
light a ******* cigarette because if he doesn't even
know how to do that, then what hope does he have?
she said one word, a whisper almost and if they
were anywhere else he might not heard her but
he does, he hears the word as clear as church bells
don't
he responds with the question they both have
why?
and she shakes her head and smiles, still
dazed from the alcohol in her veins and says simply,
"because," and maybe it's because she looks like a mess
and he's lonely and confused but somehow that because
turns into endless long reasons not to as they both
fall into each other, madly and deeply

he asks her on her last day, how to light a cigarette
his voice shaking, his intentions clear
she responds with a clear don't
he asks her again why,
and she says "because," but sometimes
not even that is enough

(h.l.)

The best percussion
this World has to offer
is that which you'd hear
were you to lay down your ear
upon the bare chest of your lover,
and loose count of the blessings for which you're both grateful:
each and every little touch
each and every heartbeat
each and every moment
each and every breath
each and every time
.
It's been so long since we've played my favorite songs.
I'm looking forward to the reunion tour, my love.