Wicked is the ego of self centered fools.
Who care about nothing but causing trouble.
Nobody can do right in the eyes of such people.
They have people beside them blinded in comfort.
...
Five minutes either way.
Five minutes from love.
Still you wait.
And she will come.
...
Nights colder than polished steel.
Sleeping on the floor of some band house.
Intoxicating sobriety looms.
Were you with me?
...
Indeed time is a factor.
Years, Months, Weeks, Days, Hours and Seconds.
Before our eyes we learn about life.
A boat with no ocean is still a boat.
...
Who will tell you that you were too young?
Singing such songs and having such fun.
Finding holes in brittle walls.
Who will come see you if you never call?
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If I was a diver for gold.
What stories would the oceans unfold?
If I was a gardener you know.
Would you give me seeds to grow?
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She holds herself from the oceans wind.
On a sultry August night away from her friends.
I can see the wailing of a lonely heart.
A lonely mind and a lonely start.
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A single line stretched on endless waves.
This voice of gifts and endless days.
Minds were faster than bullets back then.
Like a painter to canvas, a writer to pen.
...
Hello Caroline, how have you been?
Any new songs? Any new friends?
Your sisters growing, yes I can tell,
I see your face's in my wishing well.
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Five minutes before morning shouted the sandman.
My time is almost up for you.
The dust in my bag is just about gone.
Your eyes look bought and sold he said.
...