what happened at midnight shouldn't have with the rainy night full of mystery i thought i had solved the enigma when you came and you stole the breath from me through the misty paths of the city park we walked where the bravest fear to go as captive hearts found a way to break free and a dark night started to spark and glow
a line of suitors: winter's lovers come, then leave in silence; for none who try to know her ever find what they seek. together, though, she and i coembody the same pattern: the way life breaks itself down to its most basic parts, both the stark and the glowing
It's not that bad when it's this cold, And you're alone, with just the birds; It's not that bad when you grow old, And grasp for friends, for thoughts, for words -- It's not that bad to look around And wonder where it all went wrong; It's not that bad, but not that good: But, then, you've known that All along
Have you been outside, looking in? Or maybe inside, looking out? There's always some who do not want you, That much is beyond all doubt -- "Inclusion" is the goal, and while We see exclusion, and condemn, We promptly go back into lines That we have labeled us And them
And maybe hope is all that's real. Like love done versus love we feel, I think hope, though it sounds absurd, Is really more an action word Than how it typically is used. I've seen it, so, don't get confused: In Esperanza, stately, tall I've seen how hope wins over all, In how she can, with family, She good to come that no one else Can see
i didn't mean to board this empty train, but love, like chocolate, stole away my brain and left me making choices based on whims -- but opposites attract just antonyms. i don't know where we're going, and don't care: anywhere i am is everywhere you'd ever want to be, if you were me -- a platypus, who sleeps on regency. no one to take my ticket. it seems strange they called me crazy; said i was deranged, but i'm just different, anyone can see -- and difference is what makes you like me
grow your meaning everyday. give it water, sun, and soil; happy, then, becomes your toil, making it seem more like play: grow your meaning, everyday. plant the stories you would tell. sow them out of what you know; only you know how they'll go, seed them long, and plant them well: plant the stories you would tell. hills and fields of empathy, crops of every type and size: line them up, or improvise, it's the world we need to see: hills and fields of empathy.
he knew, but couldn't tell you; the world grew cold, and old, the streets were empty, like a loft whose house has just been sold those words you needed -- hidden -- that truth you needed -- gone -- so how is it we most rely on what we can't count on?
we are we were we meant to be coerced now into liberty we're free to chose and free to lose and free to pay our increased dues from sea to shining growing sea a trending bit of travesty we were we weren't we didn't know and it was so damn long ago united we lie side-by-side: greed, sloth, avarice, and pride with envy as the star of show and each a highly paid all-pro this is this was this had to be united we lie blatantly
