From the mind of Braeden Michaels, drink from this cup, the raven’s poison, a concoction of his collected poems all about the human condition. Imbibe in the rainbow of emotions found in the soul’s colors and taste the bitter aftertaste when you’re drenched in rage.
Indulge in the reasons beneath dripping lust before absorbing all the ways we experience our wide-ranging flavors of love and finish off with a sip of self-destruction. This is us. Humanity. All the layers stripped away and arranged for your pleasure.
I glared into a faded photograph of our founding fathers, where dogma was priceless,the ink used to place the period behind our Declaration of Independence spoke volumes, where freedom wasn’t part of a cliche or a sales pitch, where dreams were bright as the clouds on the Fourth of July, where individuality was embraced but businesses thrived from the word capitalism, when tax was minimal, but as generations progress with a letter from the alphabet, the labels make the period disappear,traditions were once cherished, differences were honored, education was a foundation, face to face communication was imperative, and tears from the moon never fell into the cracks of the sidewalk of Washington Street
I carefully placed the collectible portrait between the pages of one fifty seven and one fifty eight of my history book, nonchalantly I sat on the curbside, glancing at the emptiness, no bumper to bumper traffic, no obscenities lashed out, civilization working behind rectangular screens, nominal movement, and goods can purchased with the click of a button, inch by inch, decade by decade, the zest is thinning, the lawmakers relish in spending income that isn’t their own, hankering over tax brackets, salivating where to raise outlandish charges, pulling a percent from this pie from the chart, manipulating statistics, storytelling and fabricating, patiently waiting to feel the tears from the moon on the sidewalk of Washington Street
As I walked down Washington Street, I recognize too many boarded up buildings, morals and ethics were pennies that jingled in in legislators pockets, make no mistake “we are shrewd burglars that don’t need to break into your house to steal from you,” no bureaucracy is willing to save a dime, “Let’s not pretend, we love to spend” is the proverb for thieves in two piece suits, I can recollect the carpenters that hammered every nail to the bankrupt superstructures being unemployed minutes after the task was complete, the cosa nostra and baby-kissers are no longing working against each other, the henchmen and handshakers are exchanging recipes for disasters over a bottle of burgundy, chuckling, smoking Churchill cigars, reciprocating filthy and racist jokes behind doors of the dungeon, but hours later standing in front of billions with both hands together pleading “togetherness, one, unity” reading it from a teleprompter, fumbling through every word, and the sound of the crack pipe falls to the floor, the camera moves in a split second to ensure the puppet is protected by the exclusive, but let me remind you the stooge who can barely walk up a flight of stairs received eighty one million votes, let the confidence ripple, and the thunder in the catastrophic sky pierces a million ears across the globe, as I walk toward “The Devil’s Backbone Tavern” I could see the lightning whisper danger, my feet froze on the sidewalk of Washington Street
I entered the tavern and could hear the introduction of the spoken word from Ramsey Parker, a local townsman, with a raspy voice, with his arms swinging, a theatrical display…”Welcome to the the insidious circus, where the clowns are incoherent, and the ramblings labeled as a speech are gnarled and tangled, weaving in and out of grains of truth, silently signing executive orders to vaporize the capital air, beware, apathy is a tattoo on our forearm, endless pages of calculating distractions, categorized and classified, blindly swindled, if you disagree, childish tantrums will be heard, lack of respect and cohesion, popularity plummets, approval ratings dismissed, impeachment being tossed around like a softball, no hardball here, afraid to rock the sinking ship with a stumbling captain who is meant to be an oar thrown in the ocean of disgust, humanity struggling to keep their heads above water, if we throw you a life jacket, we own you! Safety wasn’t a priority, designed for the survivors to be a minority” Ramsey shouted at the top of his lungs “Wake up America before it’s too late” grab your weapon, freedom, parade Washington Street, bark at the moon and pray it doesn’t cry
The sipping regulars clapped their hands, even the bottles of bourbon and scotch are pointing fingers, the mice on the thirty year old floor scrambled from the outspoken rhetoric, the shadows on the wall nod their heads, the bartender wipes down the hallucinations over and over, the optimism shrieks like a ghost, the misfits in the booth exchange civic points of view, babbling on about equal wealth distribution, working twenty five hour weeks, bellowing over exhaustion, taking orders from convicted illegal empty headed authority figures, the bystander on the left is a former navy seal listening to the nonsense, a man who carried laurels on his back, with eyes like a sniper, capturing detail like an artist, shrugging his shoulders walking away, discomfort is drank on the rocks, while truth is an invisible spot, heading for the door to leave a place of familiarity yet smelling a stench of wrecking change
Here I am, I don’t have followers I have sanguine blisters and indecisions stirring in my reckless mind I’ve stood in the corridor of my considerations and wide eyed aspirations I’ve been guided by intolerable vices, a stench of trivial knowledge and sarcasm I have concoctions growing in my garden I’ve borrowed money from my child like brother to rent a house not far from the Porcupine River We use to play like thieves, run like dogs, and wrestle in the amber mud for hours I live in a two bedroom apartment, One block away from the Midtown bakery On Sunday’s I can smell the Apple fritters I’ve worked at the local grocery store since I was fifteen “Lucky” isn’t a word in my vocabulary I bite my fingernails as I ponder in front of my 1971 typewriter From 9pm to 10pm I’m a rapid reader I fell in love with Mark Twain and the storytellers from the innocent wild Stuck on the lucid and elusive chapter ten Captivated between the commas and engaging dialogue I cough at the errors and sniffle at the page count of my thrill seeking novel I stretch out my imagination like a rubber band Manuscript growing like a an oak tree Here I am, born an offbeat writer The people who know me stand distant Afraid to crawl inside the brain of characters I left my day job at the age of forty two Perspiration and diligence were on my side
Dandelion skin, your consequences hang from your eyelashes your backbone has an invisible crack your tenacity wallows in the closet your cheeks are filled with solitude your apprehension feels like a heart beat
Grace from within witness’s a glimpse
“I can’t hear what you are saying, I’m too busy fading”
Dandelion skin, your affliction surrounds you like a cloud your sheath carries an uneven stigma your serenity is deep in your lungs your perseverance sleeps with obscurity your illusion is smeared and splattered
Grace from within is numb and worn
“I can’t run from the silence any longer, I can finally see parts of me that are stronger”
Dandelion skin, your uncertainty plays hide and seek your strain trips over your kindness your sway crumbles in your defeated fingers your delusions disappear in the fog your trance whispers in the shade
Grace from within has the answers
“In this garden, I will blossom and continue to grow, the grace from within will finally show”
That’s the way the addiction grumbles That’s the way the drunk stumbles That’s the way the moon serenades That’s the way the elephants walk in the parade That’s the way the politicians talk That’s the way the predators gawk
That’s the way the innocent dream That’s the way the raped scream That’s the way the fears surrender That’s the way the cold remembers That’s the way the lost are found That’s the way the veterans weep to the sounds
That’s the way the truth should be told That’s the way the lies are bitten and sold That’s the way the victim cries That’s the way the quiet feel inside That’s the way the impregnator stares That’s the way the son of a bitch cares
That’s the way the glass is poured That’s the way the children are ignored That’s the way the perception is skewed That’s the way the label is crude That’s the way the society thinks That’s the way the one percent drink
That’s the way the air becomes stale That’s the way the skin becomes pale That’s the way the poets write That’s the way the day turns into night That’s the way the heart breaks into bits That’s the way the last puzzle piece fits
That’s the way the thunder growls That’s the way the thieves prowl That’s the way the light disappear That’s the way the dark becomes crystal clear That’s the way the luck falls That’s the way the anger crawls
That’s the way the perpetrators finger points That’s the way the hippies smoke a joint That’s the way the teacher dresses That’s the way the students make messes That’s the way the winners gloat That’s the way the captain steers the boats
That’s the way the rich treat the poor That’s the way the small companies closes its doors That’s the way the snake rattles That’s the way the beast fights in battle That’s the way the cookie crumbles That’s the way the insider fumbles
That’s the way the performers act That’s the way the sky becomes black That’s the way the song is heard That’s the way the villains see the words That’s the way the view turns into stone That’s the way the virtuous become alone
That’s the way the branch breaks That’s the way the dealers make mistakes That’s the way the world divides That’s the way the humans collide That’s the way the people see That’s the way the universe will be
Invigorating flare, divine storm Slipping into a harmonious dimension wrapped up in all of your inferno vicious kisses, candy like touches immersed in your tactile desires, my muse Taste the hunger of the blazing star
And the electricity ripped the champagne sheets And the sparks lit up in the tragic skies
A liquid sigh, voluptuous wildfire gliding into a psychedelic mist surrounded by your musical sirens delightful growls, exotic whispers sparkling in the moonlight, my muse craving the thirst of the blazing star
And the provocative motion burned And the ricochet sent shockwaves
whiplashed tension, pulsating snake spiraling into a smoldering spasm toes curling, spellbinding tongue breathtaking havoc accelerating oblivion touching nerve endings, my muse yearning the skin of the blazing star
And the enigma was quite exquisite And the mesmerizing fever glistens forever
I coughed up a tangled fairy tale A translucent liquid composed of quicksand and psychedelic castles in the air Dismay biting a breeze of reverberation Lust was an unforgivable bottle of poison Trapped between sincerity and admiration
For you and the wind that wraps me up in clouds of dust, I surrender For you and the sensitivity that twinkles like a star, I surrender For you and your sacred taste of sweet affection, I surrender
Forgive me, if I need too much Forgive me, if I desire too much
Caught up in the endearing glances Unspoken words, intoxicating voice Inviting and lost in a whirlwind Confusing thoughts, mixed signals Unhinged cravings, lava sensation
For you and the wind that wraps me up in clouds of dust, I surrender For you and the sensitivity that twinkles like a star, I surrender For you and your sacred taste of sweet affection, I surrender
Forgive me, if I need too much Forgive me, if I desire too much
A wicked charm alluring Sweat pouring, rhythmic tongue “Magic not seeing what was tragic” Insatiable endless night dancing Clawing and reaching for tenderness
For you and the wind that wraps me up in clouds of dust, I surrender For you and the sensitivity that twinkles like a star, I surrender For you and your sacred taste of sweet affection, I surrender
Forgive me, if I need too much Forgive me, if I desire too much
For you and the truth, I lay awake circling my vulnerability I can taste the poison on my tongue I dwell in my pond of insecurities I gnaw at my unspoken and sedated soul I claw at my resilience with my tired fingers I pick at my invisible wounds with an axe I watch the apprehension hang over my head I whisper to my demons “listen to the crack”
I am holding your hand with one eye open a gust of change feels like a storm I’m terrified to open up both eyes to see I don’t deserve you
For you and the truth, I find myself misplaced and disoriented I spot the conditions and uncontrollable urges I removed the hindering spotlight I am haunted by my effervescent carnival I have waved goodbye to the magnetic carousel I steer toward the corridor of isolation I clutch on to the paradise dancing in your eyes I am sinking in the malevolent circus
I am holding your hand with one eye open a gust of change feels like a storm I’m terrified to open up both eyes to see I don’t deserve you
For you and the truth, I am weeping on the inside in this masquerade I am praying I will find edges of my identity I leave my pieces behind reaching for you I grip on to tomorrow and replay yesterdays I cough up the suffocating air and sorrow I choke on my frustrations and crooked thunder I see the lightning in my affliction I recognize the heartache that flickers within
I am holding your hand with one eye open a gust of change feels like a storm I’m terrified to open up both eyes to see I don’t deserve you
Seven O’clock drifts vaudeville inauguration, tranquil introduction A breeze of pleasantries and greetings center stage, sponge like audience mixed congregation sipping on souls connecting with unbiased strangers nervously releasing free verse on a axis “I placed a chunk of the run down moon deep in my threadbare pocket no longer glistening or luminous cemented in a tuberculosis celestial sphere over a twelve thousand acre of soil filled with sulking predators, non stopping vixens, and smirking baby-kissers With a plethora of fear I packed my cobalt suitcase and changed my landscape Arrived in a view with miracles and lilies dancing around a bonfire with a beam glaring at her sunset daydreams head over heels, star striking overture forgotten piece of the crescent tumbling for love forevermore” sewn chapter left my lips with a joyful taste
I’ve been cauterized by my figment of my bleary imagination I’ve overlooked the obscurity dripping in the marrow of my bones I’m reminded of my thin sensibilities drifting in a whirl my memories weep in the photograph of Black-Eyed Susans in the vase next to the grin of my brave mother
Thank you for the encouragement Thank you for the warmth Thank you for walking with me in the dark Thank you for the light you gave your grandson
I’ve been sobbing at the gravesite with a four leaf clover clenched in my hand I’ve heard the growl within the pieces of my shattered heart I’ve stared into the loss and the pins sticking in my sensitive nerves my memories weep in the photograph of Black-Eyed Susans in the vase next to the grin of my brave mother
Thank you for the joy Thank you for the unconditional love Thank you for your never ending presence Thank you for the smile you gave your grandson
I’m glaring at a absent generation minds glued to screens, tabloids, Improving technology to do less exercising depreciating value at a ridiculous and outrageous rate waving at the growl of the sunrise four to six times a year, if that operating like a business losing funds I’m gawking at the disappearing fundamentals, the backbone of humanity digress, blaming the collapse of civilization, pointing fingers at plastic leadership, ignorance tattooed from head to toe, wearing air pods to only hear the agendas cloaked in madness environmentalists shaking their heads
“listening” was just a nomadic word fumbling around like a homeless man sipping on vodka from his rustic flask And the billions can feel the blisters on their lackadaisical and passive feet from the furious sun that hides behind sinister clouds, rattle me off that diabolical speech with spite beaming in your eyes I can see our enemies juggling bullets and nuclear warfare with a legislative grin where the truth is hidden, lies are contagious speaking from both sides of the mouth camouflaging motives and authenticity
I have witnessed the formation of the surface world order, removing shovels, eyebrows not raised, accepting mediocrity I am surrounded by mosquitos, snakebites, takers, and a symphony playing in the background of reality where the screams are silent and the violence is obscene I walk throughout the forest to seek peace but only to discover the fall of humanity “Borrow, borrow, borrow, we will pay the high interest tomorrow, and forevermore” the economy fluctuates, bargains with salesmen, trades with allies, shakes hands with the murderers, and the sun boils like it’s sitting on a hot stove at 6:30pm in suburbia waiting for a mother of three to throw in a pound of rigatoni’s to cook, run down and tired from the six hours of restless sleep working two jobs, patiently hanging for her ex husband to knock on her sanguine door to hand her a a child support check that will most likely bounce
And the children develop atrocious habits, slightly dysfunctional, erratic behavior, struggling in school, and the therapy bill shows up three months past due And she can’t pay that, saving nickels and dimes to take her joker like ex back to court And the cycle of justice, lack of law spins like a carousel without any pauses education slowly slipping out the pyramid degrees acquired through sixty five inch tv’s while paperback books became archaic illiteracy, comprehension, critical thinking, tossed into a body bag and thrown into the bloodhound River by hundred thousand dollar jesters playing as puppet masters dictating, removing “history”, deciding on relevance, worth and silver dollar merit Suits and paisley ties, accountants, who fixate on numbers lack the ability to “understand” people, individuals, and civilians And the sun cringes at the decision makers, narcissists behind a desk, keep drinking the Devil’s urine, believe in your hypocrisy your bed is on the bottom floor breathing in his arrogance and his cryptic verbiage
I’ve glanced at the complexity of relationships but see the shade of nuances in simplicity break down the triangle into savoring sections remove the minutia, erase the routine create mouthwatering memories, frame the watercolors of kisses and fragments of the beloved tears, surrender to the emotions light up humanity with a endearing greeting extract the labels of humans, classify and only subjects, things, and objects not individuals advertise nothing, be who you are, be the magnet, collect the pieces that make you whole, ignore the punchlines, block out the negativity, embrace the smiles, make new beginnings and say goodbye to the nerve crashing endings, celebrate life, the seconds, move forward, don’t sit still, rely on your instincts, love your shadow, and never stop dreaming, be who you want to be, grow from the sunshine
I steer clear from the plexiglass propaganda, narrow minded narrative and the acidic agenda I chuckle and smirk at the raised clenched fist In my peripheral vision, I can see the dancing tricksters, articulate magicians, and the monotone zombies pacing on the streets I am a stained bystander, observing the division, but put the universe under a microscope and visually see Gods hand holding the earth with tears falling from his cheek, I can hear him whisper a few words, but the only clear word I grasp is “rapture” I can see tragedies thrown into junkyards due to corporations believing anything and everyone is expendable and has a price And the sun turns it’s head, no longer in front of the vast kingdom we speak about And the sun disappears like a unspoken ghost hibernating from the turbulent storms
I scoffed at the down dressed pan handler that quietly entered his Mercedes Benz between Delusive Avenue and Excrement Road I wasn’t startled to hear the egos of pin stripped suits brag about what they owned I drive by the boarded up apartments that have been empty for a decade but filled with rats and carry a stench for endless miles I scan the faded newspaper of the landlord who lives in a palace who is liable for the boxed up belittled residence, slightly haunted and eerie I recognize empty fields, hollow playgrounds, clear parks, and trees that don’t hear a word leaves blowing away, hushed and dampened, melancholy drips into the creeks, fear deepen ideologies hit a threshold, spirituality is a fog serenity is crawling, chaos and havoc strut hand in hand, cynicism is filling the air, humanity generating the poisonous pollution
Excess and greed on your tongue is a virus concrete selfishness in your bones is a virus distaste is a pill you swallow that tsunamis into a virus malice is a never ending cough that explodes into a virus
And the spiral continues due to mass consumption And the circular poison seeps into your oxygen
hatred is a migraine that curves into a virus envy is a venom that distorts into a shape of a virus contempt is a concoction that awakens a virus indulgence is a sip of vertigo that provokes a virus
And the longing for abundant security boils your integrity in your blood cells And the hunger for wealth evolves in extermination
I’m scrawling, swept away from the discord, pleading to the amber crescent, hanging in the audacious sky, gazing at the mindless clones, no dismay of what will become, aggravation turns into stone, eyelashes curve into dust, puddles of demise, a graphite cyclone revolving around the fall, a population relinquishing to the avalanche, I scowl to the prognosis, hindsight is rubble, my conjecture is not a conspiracy, veracity is underneath the facade, I refuse to swallow the debris, I trash the publications, I displace the buzzards, I ignore the indoctrination, I carry my drum, I am the feather that flies with placid eyes, I don’t place stamps on foreheads
To the awaken moon, I give you a letter of a thousand reasons To the awaken moon, I am fond of your glow To the awaken moon, I send you a letter to pass on to the unconscious sun
To the helpless sun, the indifference is a path to nevermore, but show us your sparkle, we pine for your radiance, numbness is not your color, your rays are in mourning, the lechery is within the choice, the preference to wear blinders, floundering into traps, shuffling excuses, pardon the shallow, explanation with holes, to the sun you are not accountable
I’m scrawling, furiously with an ambiguous message, forgive the gratuitous cyborgs, deception and the distortion was carved, the falsehood was chiseled, sculpted by self centered dastards, mercenaries injecting conflict with psychological warfare, no intersections, a blue print of disjuncture, a frazzled atmosphere, frayed and stripped, scoundrels running ramped, policies dipped into indulgence, documents soaked in disarray, I lean into the incoherent ramblings, methodical studies forged, verbatim tampered with spots of evasion, defamation spreading like a sickness, I refuse to consume the prozac, paragraphs bellow with a enriched voice
To the awaken moon, I give you a letter of a thousand reasons To the awaken moon, I am fond of your glow To the awaken moon, I send you a letter to pass on to the unconscious sun
To the forlorn and damaged sun, please shimmer where there is darkness, let the gleam fill in the crevices, please shine where pieces are lost, let the air rejoice in your magic, please be the aspiration to the cosmos, you are the enlightened preservation, you are the marvelous treasure, without you there is no growth, to the sun – you are not accused for the increased vibrations of the earth
I can foreshadow a society crumbling from applied science, twisting theories contorted plasma, and friction analysis thesis based on wealth and leaking myths Pillars from a system situated in sand a sinking infrastructure, vanishing unity colorless pupils plagued with a manuscript spineless leaders, particles of blunders piling up, giant omissions paralyzing the fabric, Programmed illnesses with a pinch of annihilation, nations weeping counterfeit drops of sadness, gradually seeking contemporary alliances, executive orders bleeding extermination, outlined syndromes with a hint of illusions, corruption in the palms of the establishment, enigmatic statistics catapulted in a ocean of the deceased
And the nerves of the vicious are numb mankind’s existence dwells in an experiment And I can’t feel the rays of the crying sun
I saw a glimpse of paradise, toddlers playing with brilliance, wonder, and a light breeze serenading through the air as a teenager drinking water from fire hydrants, in front of provincial chateaus, clarity and modesty was a thread, surrounded by a crooning sky of beliefs and faith, conviction is just an antique sitting in a clammy basement, wrapped up in newspaper with headlines of World War Two, buried in a crate labeled “Precious and few”, where dreams shifted, echoed, and the revolution within was smoldering, freedom was sung by entrepreneurs, capitalists, and poetry was a blue jay flying from tree to tree, love was a drink we all consumed and sipped all through the decorated nights, yet today the clowns wear painted tears and smiles are weary
And the nerves of the vicious are numb mankind’s existence dwells in an experiment And I can’t feel the rays of the crying sun
I am madly in love with the metaphors from Walt Whitman, sweetness waltzing through Dickinson’s verses, where landscapes feel the sunlight, rain drizzling on white picket fences, I fell for the similes that left glitter on my fingertips, ballads that reverberate within the words, stanzas that capture charm, but in the present I read a direct message, thoughts thrown on paper within seconds, impressions not thought provoking, automation becomes a crutch, loneliness seeking attention, reality drifting like a hitchhiker, dwindling patience, crime rising like flames in death-wish fields, scarecrows parading cracked pavement, insanity yells, neon lights flicker every three minutes, like an apocalypse, but keep your view on the illuminating screen, sarcasm spasms, bellies filled with microwaved meals
And the nerves of the vicious are numb mankind’s existence dwells in an experiment And I can’t feel the rays of the crying sun
I’ve browsed countless articles of chemicals being dumped in soil, animated creeks, flowing rivers, deep cobalt seas, and wide oceans sweep it under the Persian rug, deposit the funds, retract it, close the column, turn off the comments, ignore the facts, don’t read it, let your fog disregard the bedrock of our country, Freedom is the eagle on our printed currency “In God We Trust” wasn’t coined by non- believers, deceivers, and tinted lawmakers In a heap of literature, liberty isn’t just a statue, a symbolism of integrity, war and peace, mother of monuments, breathtaking torch, Goddess of our Declaration of Independence, classic signature standing in Manhattan, New York, she is the sanctuary of our nation, yesterday can’t be expelled, removed or deleted, Can I erase your self-righteous past?
And the nerves of the vicious are numb mankind’s existence dwells in an experiment And I can’t feel the rays of the crying sun
I’ve seen grownups stomp their feet, throw child like tantrums over slim debates with cursed words thrown like daggers I’ve seen electronic devices used to record heinous crimes, satirical protests, and mind bending disturbances across the globe videographers portraying innocence, displaying evidence, defending irresponsibility I’ve seen switchblades pulled out over loose change and collected indifferences I’ve seen incompetency to be irrelevant, tenure a driving force, dynasties collapsing I’ve seen bewilderment shine brighter than quickness and keen observations I’ve seen enlightenment and murky insight wither in closets at a candlelit masquerade
And the nerves of the vicious are numb mankind’s existence dwells in an experiment And I can’t feel the rays of the crying sun
I’ve seen cemetery’s of soldiers that gave you rights, freedom, and opportunities I’ve seen flags placed over coffins, brothers in arms subbing, veterans in wheelchairs, struggling to tell a tale, medals of honor with insomnia, abolished slavery, rise of women’s rights, PTSD worn on every soldiers sleeve, But keep your eyelids on the screens, watch “Grand Opening” signs become obsolete, do what you do best, do nothing, stand for nothing, mankind defusing, watch the word “Entitled” become sewn on our flag, replacing the fifty gold stars, watch Betsy Ross cringe, stare into the tears of the sun, feel the winter for decades ahead, watch the selfish gloat, glare at the chill, embrace the still of the frost,
And the nerves of the vicious are numb mankind’s existence dwells in an experiment And I can’t feel the rays of the crying sun
(1st Verse) I want you to be the rain in my Indian summer I want you to be my queen of magic under the covers I want you to be the sun on my darkest day I want you to be my symphony on center stage I want you to be my candlelight in the dark I want you to be the butterflies circling around my heart
CHORUS Come on baby, I know you can feel it too I can see my life with you Come on baby, I want to feel you in my arms I want to wake up knowing you are my lucky charm
(2nd Verse) I want you to be the light breeze in my storms I want you to be my blanket to keep me warm I want you to be my laughter when I want to cry I want you to be my forever engraved in the sky I want you to be my shining sliver wings I want you to be my everything
Bridge: I can see us walking hand in hand I can see you being my woman and me your man I can feel something growing stronger each day I just want to love you in every single way Come on baby, I know you feel the same
(1st Verse) I’ve got butterflies in verses dreams waiting patiently in the dark I’ve got the saxophone playing on the curb whispers breathing in my heart I’ve got solitude sitting in the corner fears waiting out in the cold I’ve got memories standing on the hill But I’ve got love dancing in my soul
Chorus: Endless pages, ballerinas gliding on a summers day Endless pages, magicians and thieves walking in the circus parade Endless pages, the wind twisting in your sparkling eyes Endless pages, filled with autumns truth and winter lies In in the end, together we will be singing a lullaby
(2nd Verse) I’ve got dragonflies in my paragraphs stanzas with lightning and thunder I’ve got violins in my bittersweet symphony clouds disappear in my sense of wonder I’ve got rage bleeding between the lines insomnia running down an awaken road I’ve got sunflowers smiling in the shade But I’ve got love dancing in my soul
CHORUS:
Bridge: I’ve seen tenderness in the eyes of a child I’ve seen affection in your precious smile I’ve seen warmth in an old poor man I’ve seen angels on earth in God’s plans I’ve seen blessings in all of life’s stages I’ve seen divine circles on my endless pages
Invincible Verses 