A Lady Upon The Figurehead

A  lady upon the figurehead
Standing proud in the breeze
Calling to the Sirens & wenches
Knowing the truth of these seas
Her beauty remaining firm & intact
The ship around her orange with rust
The sailors with splinters in their palms
For she has a wooden bust

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Pouring The Last Drop In The Bottle

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Pouring the last drop in the bottle
Lost in the old rusted radiator’s hum
Not every morning is lonely as this
Wondering when your love is going to come
The cigarette smoke is trying to kill me
No longer going to sit back cold & demure
Nothing left from when we were famous
She’d give anything for life to be as it were

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