There’s a love filled with truth, that pretends to be real.
Playing it good, that’s the number one deal.
I’ve got the inspiration,
I’ve got that blues sensation.
There’s the chair over there, that I’m sat upon,
Watching the tv, where has my astral plain gone?
A giant world, with little hope.
Living forever, tethered to a soap on a rope.
The sun shines over the Mississippi, with it’s bridges and mud,
I look down as the water flow, thickens with flood.
Watching you, picking up the catfish and bass,
I thumb through the A to Z, for a native, coffee-time lass.
I feel like Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’ story’s begun,
Scaring the girls away and calling it fun.
Blood drenched and earth-locked, coming out only at night,
Never to get off this planet, to escape into the light.
Zooming off fast, in a powerful Dodge,
I’ll live here forever, until the world, she stops baring her grudge.
I will live here forever, with a large cosmic clock.
‘Cos I’m stranded alone without any luck.
Fading to nothing, with vicious great fangs,
Sinking into your neck, being filmed by the gangs
Without you completely and your icy, blue heart,
And though we are told that we’ll never part.
We will live here forever, as the sky darkens to black,
It’s only your nails, that claw down my back.
And I don’t mind, if I’m losing my mind,
These rough fingers, feel the need to unwind.
I want to live forever. A simple question?
It sounds like more fun, than making an oven.
For money’s consumption and a tray of savoury pies,
The sky is a chocking already, as the fumes litter the skies.
So it can rot and decay in a pile of fridges,
Blocking the horizon and squashing the midges.
And I learn to live forever, blind to revolution,
Born to stay here on earth and never return.
To all the injustice and the pills that clog up the puke-filled sink,
As a guitarist I know, that it is rarely the ink.
That makes the guitar moan, wail, sing or sigh,
When your ballerina shoes, swing sweetly by.