In this sleepy place,
news travels at a violent pace.
Every night is a carnival, an ongoing funeral.
Street corners make an empty landscape
light changes colors to an empty curb
Sunday morning settles down
on a high mountain desert town.
A heavy head and a chest of regret,
The last thing you remember
was making a bet that you could follow the
meteor until it hit, but it was just
truck lights reflecting on the side of a house.
7 comments:
This be another good one.
You knew it was a song right?
Bm/G/D
Resolving (I think) with a the old standby of D to G.
I'll play it for ya some time.
Oh, and I wrote it.
I likes it!
DanaGirl is a good judge of talent, H-Towne. She's also got it goin' on in oh so many ways!
haha! I don't think you're supposed to use Heather's blog to hit on me! =)
You kids can frolic in my blogspace. Just keep it Gee-rated!
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