1. |
Sun Will Shine
06:14
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if you take me down from that high window
or just force me to sit listen
i’m on the ground and i’m drifting
up, all around, i’m looking,
down and the sound of crooked
teeth, all against my knuckles
eat, and begin some forceful
making me a nothing
or will you just make me a ghost
if i come to your house at midnight
don’t talk aloud, all uptight,
work is tomorrow’s own blind
debt, walking to sunlight,
i’m struggling to stand up,
legs wobbly and step by
step, i achieve some moral
death, as i realise that
maybe i’m just in love with a ghost
the best and worst of your life is still to come . . .
. . . probably
sun will shine, it’s automatic
if you’re stuck inside and all the
light in your life comes from dead
night, dim bulbs, and tv
cries out, nightstand clock blinks
midnight, stuck in endless
life’s loop, up and down and
round through, passing ‘cross some
threshold, all alone and
still in love with some ghost
tick tock, feet underneath
wet socks, fidgeting long
sigh of relief at the
burn marks underneath my
tongue, locked into rhythm
with rocks breaking waves at
the coast, hearing all the
whitewash, fading into good
behaviour looking after my ghosts
the best and worst of your life is still to come . . .
. . . probably
sun will shine, it’s automatic . . .
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2. |
There's a Baleful Cloud
02:58
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There’s a baleful cloud hung over my head
As I sink into bed at night
Then comes the wind and the generous rain
And misty fog to fill my sky
Like I thought I could escape the debate
Of whether I am ok or maybe just fine?
Something simple needs to swallow me up and sink me low into nothingness
Escape away from the noise and the muck and the humming
A feeling of resolve to know where I am in this disastrous mystery
Of moving on up and towards a bright light that is thundering
Melting away as if I’m on a crusade
For something self-deprecating with no escape
“Well how about this? You go and get your own fix?
You learn to live with it? Boy you better concentrate”
Something simple needs to swallow me up and sink me low into nothingness
Escape away from the noise and the muck and the humming
A feeling of resolve to know where I am in this disastrous
Mystery of moving on up and towards a bright light that is thundering
I’m moving on up towards that bright light and it’s thundering
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BW Johnson London, UK
25 year old musician not from London, making music and such.
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