Mind Felt


My thoughts flow like beer down my throat

My words are less and lessons won

But my love, I canít find enough.

Broken glass and bleeding palms

Iím here - here for all of you.

Some Sunday Iíll just turn another shade of blue

And smile, smile, smile at disease and rotted death

Dead in the earth where the fire burns to warm our bones.

Dead where shade turns a darkened cold -

Yet still sips the life where weíre not alone.