I’m Doing My Best Here

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I’m doing my best here

Not a miracle worker by any means

My imperfections are showing

Getting trampled by the fiends

But I’m not who they want me to be

I’m not long meant for this load

For there’s more for me to become

Never stagnant, blazing along my own road

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Manifestos Of The Uprising

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Manifestos of the uprising
Those who can no longer stay away
Knowing the tough road ahead
Highway stories of former days
Hateful & silent is no way to live
Bottled up with all that evil inside
Need to release the toxins & corruption
Or get washed away in the rising tide

I Have Stacks Of Unused Paper

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I have stacks of unused paper
Like the untouched dreams in my head
We all have the forks in our roads
But often take the easier path instead
So many distractions in my way
To give in to them would leave me mundane
I don’t wish to live an ordinary existence
I’d much rather push the envelope & become insane
The results always lead to the same ending
We’ll all wander into death before we’re through
I don’t want to take a straight line to get there
I hope to zig, all the while forever holding onto you

Cold War Runways Still Clearly Marked

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Cold war runways still clearly marked
A legacy of certain impending doom
Farmhouse grill just the other side
These suburbanites need more room
Lost family values since those days
Deteriorated grain silos crumble in rust
Red wooden barn needing more paint
Orchard roads merely a path of dust
Good soil to grow your dreams in
Futures not to be hindered by our past
Imagine a world where children are free
Free to imagine a peace that will last

Fifteen Dollars & A Broken Jaw To Boot

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Fifteen dollars & a broken jaw to boot
Expanding cities complete with souls for sale
Government land, but it’s not something to own
Your identity stolen down a worn migration trail
Pushing eighty-five before the winter sun goes down
Desert road adventures through the land of the free
Missing midnight mass for its not yet that time
Rumors & hints of how much you really mean to me
Your voice remains dry after another weekend
Do you remember the faces of all those left undone
Our days pass on by in those decadent whispers
Though all our remaining years will pass by as one

Absentee Postmasters

Absentee postmasters in a foreign longing state
Discussing politics of lost & forgotten mates
Central themes no one remembered to notice
Eyeing secrets along the day to your favorite hostess
Stuck in a rut & broken down on a fragile road
Distances lost with the woman lying in your head
Remedies too severe to be used on this night
Gently track where you’re afraid to tread