The Travelers

I don't know why I get up each day
and pick up my guitar and start to play
pin down my thoughts so they don't slip away
then bite my tongue like I've got nothing to say

I forget where I am
which country, which continent
all the places I long for but have never been

I guess you're the only one who understands
with no promises and no demands
Let's just run away while we still can
It's not too late, give me your hand

We could drive off and drift around
Playing songs in little beat up towns
For tips and free beer and a place to lay down
Then off to the next one, till the money runs out

I forget where I am
which country, which continent
all the places I long for but have never been

I guess you're the only one who understands
with no promises and no demands
Let's just run away while we still can
It's not too late, give me your hand

Snow Globe (version 2)

the plastic landscape
of painted faces
no lungs expand
no pulse point races

circular sky
lazy fall of ash
captured light
reflecting off the glass

snow globe, you'll never know
shaken, then moving slow
snow globe, you'll never know
outside it's snowing

motionless bodies
and sightless glances
no voices call
no heart beat dances

circular sky
lazy fall of ash
captured light
reflecting off the glass

snow globe, you'll never know
shaken, then moving slow
snow globe, you'll never know
outside, outside
it's really snowing