Reverb

chips ahoy…what happened to that boy?

don’t tell me. i don’t want to know what happened to that boy. if mj the kop had his way with mr. christie’s golden boy and that’s the reason why he’s in all this trouble…i definitely don’t want to know.

as quick as all this stuff came….everyone’s trying to place blame. too bad bruce lee isn’t around to play this game of death. nobody wants to have their last breath. a little cryptic you may say. you’ll understand this all someday. most people think in rhymes, whilst the rest think of crimes. are your dreams in colour? or does your jealousy make them duller?

did i get my foot caught between the rails somewhere along the way? and why wasn’t o fortuna playing in the background whilst i tried to free myself from the trap? did you ever love crushing pennies on the track? but then find that the track was so far away….

missing that feeling of when the train roars by and the air rushes past you so fast that it sucks the breath out of you…and for a moment your brain is gasping for a thought…you drop to your knees and you wonder how long it’ll be till you get another chance…

pick up your feet…walk back to the park bench and seat yourself in anticipation. the day when the fog clears and a silhouette comes walking through the cloud and takes you by the hand and leads you down the track…is the day you’ll finally get to think about it again.

should of been a better circumstance. could’ve happened differently. perhaps under different light.

maybe if you could set it all up in pure hollywood perfection, your thoughts would come together and mesh together as a cohesive unit.

seems like stirring up the cup a little much has left it to spill in a sticky mess leaving a cup ring on that perfect teak wood table…

had me thinking like a donkey, wacky and wonky wanting some chocolate from the factory. wish i didn’t trip at the door and spill my milk.

at least it’s not as difficult as stringing christmas lights, i wonder what sort of light sculptures you could make if your eyes had a delayed exposure.

i should’ve realized the moment i stood still to take a breather would be the moment i’d realize a little too much. someone spin the wheel again and see where it lands this time. perhaps luck be a lady tonight, but look where that got frankie boy.

lower my bills, flock to the beebop. dance a little to the melodious stupidity. it’s going to be the revival of the sock hop. diners and chevy’s, bistros and empty kegs.

don’t want any of it. someone sort this out…someone decipher how it all goes…life shouldn’t be so complicated…

stop hurting, so i can stop hurting. stop thinking so i can stop thinking. stop talking so i can stop talking. stop walking so i can catch up. take a seat mr brady.

come a little closer. i wanna see you over here. it’s a little darker. tell me why my tea biscuits say “maria” all over them? it makes no sense to me. not much does right now.

everything that is so simple is so complicated. mr christie should save the world. nutrition is over rated.

i’m gonna move a little more. jump a little more. shake things up a little more. maybe things will fall into place and make sense in my brain. toss and turn. let it all burn.

warped and bloodshot. just another thought. a brain clot. answers being sought. struggles being fought. lessons being taught. letting good things rot. culprits being caught. sleeping on a cot. keeping things simple.