He might stop and dream of ponds
To sit and play with forever eve:
He might sit with trees till summer's day
Or maybe swim with many fish
Or touch the sky with his geese
Maybe he'll play with spiders nigh
Or creep along with midnight bugs
On his road might he run—
With stray cats that nightly come
Or sit along with navy trees
And dance along the flowers fun
Might he chat once with a moon
And ask it why it shines so white
Or talk with grass why green it grows
Or talk with spirits all through night.

Which way the wind blows
Why the night falls
Or where it goes,
When adventure calls
My attention grows
Til I drop my pretension
Of depressive prose,
With that said my apprehension
To speak of this romantic tension
Leaves my heart in locked up throes
Its wants and wishes won't be exposed,
I don't know what happens now
Or happened then to bring this out
Why the night falls
Or where it goes
It won't matter I promise, it's what we chose.

Run brother run,
The tides of regret are coming,
To drown you in the Sea of Sorrows.
Each year the tide gets bigger,
Until one day it swallows you whole.

So start building that boat
Full of adventures & memories,
To sail across the Sea of Sorrows,
And reach the island of tomorrow.

And when you reach a crossroad
Dont look back.

walking through the dark
on the outskirts of Baton Rouge
just me and a bunch of stars
no one else to talk to

the yard is staging cars
expecting a train
gather my gear
trying to   beat   out   the rain...


wind is a howling
roosters start to crow
6-string on my back
bound for a Houston show

I like the early morning
quiet, dark, and cold
watching for that engine
and   tryin ta breath    real    low...


the "CLASP! of thunderous coupling
"SkReeeech," its time ta go
wind is a rushing
this steel     carries       me       on...