Here it is, a new song. I've found that I'm happiest with the songs I write that are stories not about myself. If anybody still looks at this blog you can by all means tell me what you think this is about.
Seventeen Years of Dreams
You were conceived seventeen years of dreams
Conspiring against me at once
Walking on trees and laughing at me
And no one knew till we were done
Your hand in mine, it’s small and it’s fine
But I’ve found that doesn’t prevent
Fitting together, underneath leather
Fingers in the same mittens
Time comes to an end
I loved you then
Breathe on me soft, the forest, we’re lost
Our blanket is covered in leaves
Brush out your hair, extract them from there
And drop them the way you’ll drop me
Time comes to an end
I loved you then
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5 comments:
I usually like to think I'm smart about these things, but upon reflection I must admit, I don't get it. Pretty, though.
cool.
i do still check these crazy blogs.
pretty deep
I'd say this song is one you're happy about, even though it isn't a song you'd usually be happy about
That makes non sense....
what I'm saying is this is a story a bit about you
cheryl: have you been drinking, just wondering is all.
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