IN THE LAST RESORT...
Clouds of ashes cast on
Gold canyon.
Gold canyon turns silent and grey
In a sea of hills
And lonely shores
Underneath a sunset sky.
Tell you a secret:
Gold canyon
needs CPR
Before she disaappears
In my cloudy hands.
Liberty comes off highway
One unexpected evening
And goes with the wind
Into sunset.
With skippers and mermaids
There were lots of sun and fun
Now I retreat to sky
The love thing
Is to keep the love thing
The love thing.
I wanna remind you in your ears:
Writing poetry is a
Performing art.
Clouds of ashes cast on
Gold canyon.
Gold canyon turns silent and grey
In a sea of hills
And lonely shores
Underneath a sunset sky.
Tell you a secret:
Gold canyon
needs CPR
Before she disaappears
In my cloudy hands.
Liberty comes off highway
One unexpected evening
And goes with the wind
Into sunset.
With skippers and mermaids
There were lots of sun and fun
Now I retreat to sky
The love thing
Is to keep the love thing
The love thing.
I wanna remind you in your ears:
Writing poetry is a
Performing art.
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