Just one turn to steer your fate. Or wait for fate to spin you. Your trusting's fine but much too blind. Your compass is within you. . These days pass you yearning.
The top of my head shines through my haircut. Even when I brush, shape and style. Top of my head smiles at the young man. Telling me I must have been alive awhile.
With this tattoo you make a promise. Of who you are and what you think. And this will be your binding contract. Written down in blood and ink. . She had a life to live.
I make the radio play. And he smiles, a big smile. He's sure that the people who sing. Are inside, inside. . Why did I try to explain?. He's got a miracle there.
I'm the nightshift watchman for the planet. Five days a week, I watch the tube. Five nights a week, I'm watching the radar. Easy job with nothing much to do.
Clear blue sky. Looking through my father's eyes. Way up high. A diamond made of nylon flies. . Out of the fishing reel. The string is drawn. Fishing for dreams.
A tattered old kite. Must have been spring when you got flown. But there's no leaves in sight. Left you to swing up there alone. Tangled in branches and held by a string.