Sleep Twilight Lyric
Ever get inspired in that moment between wakefulness and sleep? Me too. It's a mystical place. The first stanza of this came to me as I was drifting into a nap after a morning of glassy non-waves at the beach.
I could use a word from you
Something simple, just a clue
A whispered word or two
You know, I thought I made it clear
I can take direction
All those boats up on the shore
I guess I could build a few more
Not even sure what they’re for
But they’re more than they appear
It’s not just a collection
I’ve got a field of dried-up wells
Dug myself halfway to Hell
To the point where I can’t tell
I can’t see and I can’t hear
where to make the connection
Drift away to another land
Forget trying to understand
Nothing’s done and nothing’s planned
I can wait another year
For the next rejection
Did I make too much of nothing at all
Missed the cue and dropped the ball
Ran too fast when told to crawl
It’s your wheel, you can steer
I trust you’ll make the correction
There’s so much you won’t let me say
Saving it for another day
It’s a game I’ve learned to play
You won't let me doubt or fear
Won’t let me raise an objection
I could use a word from you
Something simple, just a clue
A whispered word or two
You know, I thought I made it clear
I can take direction
All those boats up on the shore
I guess I could build a few more
Not even sure what they’re for
But they’re more than they appear
It’s not just a collection
I’ve got a field of dried-up wells
Dug myself halfway to Hell
To the point where I can’t tell
I can’t see and I can’t hear
where to make the connection
Drift away to another land
Forget trying to understand
Nothing’s done and nothing’s planned
I can wait another year
For the next rejection
Did I make too much of nothing at all
Missed the cue and dropped the ball
Ran too fast when told to crawl
It’s your wheel, you can steer
I trust you’ll make the correction
There’s so much you won’t let me say
Saving it for another day
It’s a game I’ve learned to play
You won't let me doubt or fear
Won’t let me raise an objection
Labels: beach, homemade music, lyrics, new smyrna beach, poetry, Radio Free Babylon, surf
3 Comments:
Track it, captain! I'm totally with you on that place between alert and shut down. There has to be some physiological reason for that. Of course, if we knew that reason, it would probably seem less magical.
By Anonymous, at June 23, 2008 at 7:57 AM
I have the best dreams at that point. Of course the other week I had my kidney removed in my dream... so that wasn't good.
Agreed with Fred, record it! :D
By Thinking In Vain, at June 26, 2008 at 12:08 PM
I like it!
By Anonymous, at June 26, 2008 at 10:42 PM
Post a Comment
<< Home