The Last Song

Fuzzy images in my head
Of a different life or maybe better off dead

Pushing through a mountain of snow
Got nowhere to leave got nowhere to go

I’m higher than a kite ripping through the sky
I’m lower than a subway screeching through the night

I found a place to belong
It feels right when I’m writing a song

It’s easy and fun and light to the touch
My mind in a flow my body a rush

Like the touch of your hand on the bare of my chest
Searching madly in the dark to find what’s left

search for words, search for glory
Nothing left, looks like the end of my story

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