Last Commented Song/Lyric Poems (408)

Stopped into a local spot for a drink,
Pulled up a stool and I ordered whiskey,
A "Hello" to the fellow sittin next to me,
We got to talking bout our JOB's,
I said "I'm head of manufacturing...",
"In fact I own a lie factory,
Crafting stories only I believe,
Fabricating fantasy and daydream,
See I pretend that she's still here with me...",
I said "I'm head of manufacturing...",
And " I been drowning in the whiskey and wine,
Tryin to hide this aching heart of mine,
While I tell everyone that everything's fine,
It's 9 - 5 on that production line",
Tipped my glass and I said "That's me...",
"Man, I'm head of manufacturing...",
"Line by line, that's just how I get by,
Though it breaks this aching heart of mine,
I keep smiling saying everything's fine,
Like she's with me and not some other guy,
See when it comes to lyin I'm the king,
Said "I'm head of manufacturing..."

When I met you first
To love you was my thirst
I love in such a way
That none has a word to say
But see the greatest lover on his way
To meet his partner in the bay
Birds fly high and days roll by
But I stand here dusk and dawn
Waiting for you to come and join

In a world of dragons and knights
Little souls, abandoned in the night
Their only shelter, cardboard shields
Invisible to this kingdom’s honourable guilds

Living day by day, in a quest for food
While rich and powerful, feast with their brood
Their hearts as pure, as any holy grail
Wandering souls, seeking a hopeful tale

Wandering Souls, with no place to go
Angels or demons, do they reap what they sow?
Wandering Souls, with no place to call home
Innocence lost, in this land full of gold

Fairies flutter, and unicorns prance
While these children endure, a harsher stance
Fighting for scraps, in alleys they roam
Their childhood dreams, shattered and alone

Living day by day, in a quest for food
While rich and powerfull, feast with their brood
Their hearts as pure, as any holy grail
Wandering souls, seeking a hopeful tale

Wandering Souls, with no place to go
Angels or demons, do they reap what they sow?
Wandering Souls, with no place to call home
Innocence lost, in this land full of gold

But one day, in a twist of fate
A champion will rise, to change their fate
Guided by love, and filled with desire
Their future will no longer be dire

Wandering Souls, with no place to go
Angels or demons, do they reap what they sow?
Wandering Souls, with no place to call home
Innocence gained, in a world we’ll own.

I like it here,
I am no one,
Missing the spotlight, yeah,
No, not knowing it would get you burned,-
Like a spoiled child - allowed to run wild,
What have you learned?
You remember where you've been,
Time for someone else to take their turn,-

Flying about and above,
Here to there,
On an endless road,
Alone,-
Lights! Camera! Action!,
Fortune, fame, then pass out on the floor,
They revive you - then re-energize you,
Then they expect you to ask for more?,

Sometime, someday, one day,
From perhaps a dream, you awake,
Of what you once had, gained, and lost,
What would you do? - Would you do again?,-
I like it here,
I am no one,
Missing the spotlight? No,
Yeah, knowing it will get you burned,-

King Doobie and his psychedelic band we call Funk,
Dig, all of them were hippies,
Except of the monk,-
Lonesome lovers and their lustful needs,
All married bourbon and their children were weed,-
Forgotten moments flow out our minds,
As we gathered in a tepee and smoked us some kind,-
The Doobie King became one of those stars (roar of the crowd),
The peyote seemed to blow him that far!,
(Wow, that's far out, man!),
Yeah, far out into space,
His eyes glowed!- He had no face!,-
The medicine man spoke of his dreams,
But, only the birds understood,
As they sing it in the trees,--

Heartfelt moments in our inner warfare scene,
Tarot cards and fine machines,-
A mental disturbance at the local lunatic house,
Between a lonely man and this hot looking nurse (ugh),-
Stranger sounds from padded walls,
But, only the birds above can hear their calls,-
Warlocks and witches,
Dressed in white,
Frolic the halls in the dead of night?!,
Could that be more frightening,
Than the Orange Sunshine?,
As the LSD stays in flight,-
The voodoo woman spoke of their dreams,
Only the birds understand,
As they sing it in the trees,--

(The sounds of birds are singing in the background diminishing as the sound of a cuckoo bird raises higher, then fades)

King Doobie and his psychedelic band we call Funk,
Dig, all of them were hippies,
Except of the monk,-
Lonesome lovers and their lustful needs,
All married bourbon and their children were weed,-
Forgotten moments flow out our minds,
As we gathered in a tepee and smoked us some kind,-
The Doobie King became one of those stars (roar of the crowd),
The peyote seemed to blow him that far!,
(Wow, that's far out, man!),
Yeah, far out into space,
His eyes glowed!- He had no face!,-
The medicine man spoke of his dreams,
But, only the birds understood,
As they sang it in the trees,--

Heartfelt moments in our inner warfare scene,
Tarot cards and fine machines,-
A mental disturbance at the local lunatic house,
Between a lonely man and this hot looking nurse (ugh),-
Stranger sounds from padded walls,
But, only the birds above can hear their calls,-
Warlocks and witches,
Dressed in white,
Frolic the halls in the dead of night?!,
Could that be more frightening,
Than the Orange Sunshine?,
As the LSD stays in flight,-
The voodoo woman spoke of their dreams,
Only the birds understand,
As they sing it in the trees,--

(The sounds of birds are singing in the background diminishing as the sound of a cuckoo bird raises higher, then fades)

It comes quietly
with the advent of dawn.
It scares away bad thoughts
morning by touch.
Squats in the corner
with a slight smile,
to dance in a moment
with joy of breath.
Looks longingly
into open eyes
grading emotions
giving a will to live.
And laughs sincerely
from a planned plan.
Hope stubborn
hope unknown.

When we seek for wisdom, we get events and arguments which also comes as a
method of learning and that's where we learn to become better and smarter.
life is short but not too short to become anything we want and everything we can imagine, we transit from certain levels of maturity, we learn from events and arguments.