Frankie died just the other night Some say it was suicide But we know How the story goes With his six string knife And his street-wise pride The boy was a man before his time And she knew All their dreams would come true But ya see Frankie was fast He was too fast to
I’ve met that point in my life. Want came to need. Burn these fields of corn, that surround. My harvest gone at the price of maturity. But these remains I’ve left to rot will be resurrected again and again by the next generation of children who want to change minds with the stain on hand.
In the sky is the moon This large yellow circle finds her in the mood. In her eyes I can see it all. A short plaid skirt, a white short sleeve shirt. My dreams aren’t premonitions, because I’m dreaming of impossible outcomes. I’ve tried to understand but I just don’t understand empty signposts seen through
Maybe I’ve forgotten the name and the address of everyone I’ve ever known. It’s nothing I regret. Save it for another day. It’s the school exam and the kids have run away. I would like a place I could call my own, have a conversation on the telephone. Wake up every day that would be
Cold October Fall, At The Outside Of A VFW Hall, I said I minded distance but distance would define us, define us all. A tree in Nichol’s Park, I carved a broken heart. I said I minded distance but distance owned us from the very start… it’s every song. There’s dividing lines between east and