sometimes it's strange returning
to my cloistered, monk-like cell
after nights onstage being admired
by thousands...ummm...hundreds...
ok...perhaps dozens...
but it's not the glamorous life
that most of them would imagine...
your humble rock & roll narrator
instigator
agitator
spectator
perpetrator
fornicator (well, i used to anyway)
curator
procrastinator
educator
navigator...after years on the road
i rarely get lost
and yet i can't find my way
to my heart...
to my cloistered, monk-like cell
after nights onstage being admired
by thousands...ummm...hundreds...
ok...perhaps dozens...
but it's not the glamorous life
that most of them would imagine...
your humble rock & roll narrator
instigator
agitator
spectator
perpetrator
fornicator (well, i used to anyway)
curator
procrastinator
educator
navigator...after years on the road
i rarely get lost
and yet i can't find my way
to my heart...
3 comments:
Lost my heart once,
seemed to have passed it off to someone for safe keeping,
lost it again when the smoke kept me blind and the rivers were running red with wine.
found it in the strangest of places..
I'll compare notes with you,
when you find yours...
it could be said that my heart
hides in plain sight,
a "you can't get there from here" scenario...
I know where mine is....... its tucked deeply into the bottom of me pocket with a hankie stuffed on top to stop it coming to the top...... done with all that heart ache....... but now my soul aches so I have to try and find a place to stuff that somewhere deep....
No longer can I wear my heart of me sleeve....
Hope you find yours, its to good and pure to be tucked away....
X
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