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

Living In A John Hughes Movie

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Living in a John Hughes movie
Suburbia laid out before me
I don’t look the outlaw type
Head of this house; I’m still free
But a simmering rebellion within
Thoughts not transferred in awhile
Preparing for this revolution
But it’s my typewriter, flair & my preppy style

Perhaps We Should Outlaw Hate?

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Perhaps we should outlaw hate
Tired of them dictating our actions
Forcing us to fear living normal lives
Their bombs & their guns desire immediate redaction
Appeasement never worked in the past
We can’t survive by filling rifles with flowers
But I never want to hate like my enemy
Somehow, a united front is needed by the World Powers
But I reckon they’ll continue to squabble
Letting every opportunity pass on by
Their egos reinforced by their Cold War arsenals
But the truth remains, how many more innocents have to die?

Rode The Train Through The Foggy Sunset

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Rode the train through the foggy Sunset

Wrote an outlaw song of love/hate

Undercurrent ramblings in sullen streets

For eternal happiness, I still have to wait

I ran away from my former sinful self

Peeling away truth from this somber gem

Trying to see clear of returning to you

No longer will I ever be listening to them

I break free of all regard

Push past all whispers in my ear

I rise, standing tall as a mountain

Waves wrap me, wiping away all fear

Outlawed Poets Writing Of Things We Cannot Discuss

Outlawed poets writing of things we cannot discuss

Hiding out from society for all these years

Push them further away from anything real

They’re no longer human, those aren’t real tears

Becoming everything you never wanted to be

When did you become the instrument of all this pain

Working the outskirts of the foreign cities

You’re gonna be lost when it finally starts to rain

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