Cold Coffee & A Stash Of Lost Dreams

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Cold coffee & a stash of lost dreams
A distant memory of those rail yards
But we weren’t ourselves with honesty
Not the renegades or anything that hard
Images of what we might yet become
Grabbing self-regard before it fades
Destroying their notions of modernism
Returning to simpler times & dark shades
We all have our morbid skeletons
The vague semblance of a broken soul
But somewhere are the clues to the truth
Somewhere when lightning meets a weary, old skull

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I’m Into Trying New Things

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I’m into trying new things
Alternate positions to give you an extra gasp
Weaving words through this existence
Weakened knees, begging me to unclasp
I’m emboldened by your Earthly vessel
But a beautiful soul, you can’t dispossess
But enough of these intricate notions
I believe it’s time to get you undressed

I Think You Have The Wrong Notion Of Me

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I think you have the wrong notion of me
I could be wrong, but it’s what I believe
I’m neither the saint nor the villain
In which your thoughts are trying to achieve
I’m not nearly as arrogant as I portray
That’s merely the manifestation of a fictional role
I know confidence is sexy & I’m trying my best
But I have doubts regarding the quality of the contents of my soul

Where Are Our Notions Of Excellence

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Where are our notions of excellence
Who was it who decided upon the benchmark
I’m not concerned with the notches in your belt
Nor the inferiority you felt after dark
We need to find a solution within this realm
To expel those who feed off society’s blues
To exterminate the politicians & profiteers
Our war, our blood & our catastrophic fate

You Have Your Notions Of Me

You have your notions of me
Whether it’s my rugged good looks
Or I’m a notorious scalawag
But neither a hero or a crook
I’m not a man of much persuasion
Nor am I a wild west outlaw
I choose to wear the eyepatch
But I’m more of a gentleman with flaws

I write fast & love slow
Without a care of what they say about me
When you have faith
You never have to wait & see

I quietly find my secrets within
Descended from that beautiful literary brogue
To hell with the naysayers; we’re gonna have fun
I’ll be your host tonight, the swashunbuckling rogue
Many out there won’t warm to my charm
Not their cup of tea or simply they’ve no style
But you of good taste & reknown class
Come share a spot with the one with the mischievous smile

Don’t Tell Me About Sacrifice

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Don’t tell me about sacrifice
I don’t need your hypocritical words
A notion merely secondhand
A duty you constantly deferred
With my family soundly asleep
I’ll carry my seabag back to the dock
Taking with me their prayers
Never survive without them – my rock

I’m Not A Fancy Poet

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I’m not a fancy poet
I don’t have a soul patch nor a beret
Within the confines of each breath
Trying to create a literary bouquet
I merely write how I feel
Without thought to how I’m perceived
No time for such arbitrary notions
True to myself, I know I’ve achieved

I’m Not Who You Think I Am

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I’m not who you think I am
A smooth operator along the Rhine
But Deutschland was so long ago
I’ve traded heartache for this sunshine
Your notions & guesses are invalid
I’m not who you’ve conjured in your head
Cannot be contained by your notions
I’m free to roam wild instead