GREY SKY
My pen rests uncensored but what can it say?
My canvas lies vacant longing for it's day.
If I walk in the sunlight forever, will I miss the clouds passing by?
If I walk in the sunlight forever, will I miss the color of grey sky?
Don't hold on too tight, but don't let it slip away.
What happens tomorrow is what you drempt up yesterday.
If I walk in the sunlight forever, will I miss the clouds passing by?
If I walk in the sunlight forever, will I miss the color of grey sky?
SHOTGUN ALLEY
Down a long grey drive where the moon can hide
the old man muttered on.
With his head held high and his wife by his side,
their love a tragic song:
Shotgun Alley, he's coming back Sally, so hold on to that gun
Shotgun Alley, he's coming back Sally, what have we become?
Under shadows of greed he held the deed
To a room of precious things.
He never left their home for if he roamed,
Who knew what it could bring?
Well, he held the fort tight until one night, until one night
The old man was called away.
So, he sat her in her cap with a gun in her lap
Until he came home again.
He said, "If anyone tries to come down the drive to
Steal our treasures away,
Don't listen to his lies, aim between his eyes
And blow that man away."
Shotgun Alley he's coming back Sally, so hold on to that gun.
Shotgun Alley, he's coming home Sally, what have we become?
Well, he didn't get far in that little blue car,
He remembered what he forgot.
Around he went and up the bend
And that's just when she shot.
She shot out in the cold just like she was told,
She did just as he said.
She didn't listen to his lies, she aimed between his eyes
And shot him in the head.
Shotgun Alley, he's coming back Sally, so hold onto that gun,
Shotgun Alley he's coming home Sally, what have we become?
IN THE SCHEME OF IT ALL
If you made it perfect, than why do I hurt? If you did it for me, can you do it for her? At the end of our darkness a beauty shows, and yet across oceans our differences grow.
In the scheme of it all, when you think you know what it adds up to, it's the smell of your sin, that keeps 'em onto the trail of you. If I gave up everything just to be this, would it make me, less than this?
If I went there could you still care? Knowing all those reasons were not in there? At the end of your life would the love shine through? Do you know that's all you've got to do?
In the scheme of it all, when you think you know what it adds up to, it's the smell of your sin, that keeps 'em onto the trail of you. If I gave up everything, just to be this, would it make me less than His?
"Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent." ~Victor Hugo