Sailing To The Land Of The Norse

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Roaming free, since empires first ruled the sea
Our little ship buoyed upon the rising crests
Cutting through the waters, making our way
The burden of duty, we have silently acquiesced

Sailing to the land of the Norse
Braving storms that blew & blew
Surviving the ocean’s force
For I’m one of the salty crew

Cautious of what lies beyond this foggy morn
The natural world; the root of crashing waves
Taking in the sight of snow covered mountains
Norse myths & a foreboding weakness we stave

Sailing to the land of the Norse
Braving storms that blew & blew
Surviving the ocean’s force
For I’m one of the salty crew

Now aloft; climbing the mast for a clearer view
Ice, snow & haze coming out of this Northern gale
Secrets of this land & now we’re in its frigid grip
Push furthermore, we have no option to fail

Sailing to the land of the Norse
Braving storms that blew & blew
Surviving the ocean’s force
For I’m one of the salty crew

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We Used To Know The Truths

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We used to know the truths
The fundamentals of our lives
Misplaced inspiration in youth
We, the lost children, who survived
Abandoned by artists searching for gold
Forgetting the dream of accepting yourself
Never admitting we’ve grown this old
Rejection of impending imperial wealth
Fuck your Republicans & Democrats
Those who sold the vision with betrayal
Insensitive bastards of the Cheshire Cat
Unsteady appeasement & divided we fail

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

Another Day Of Cold Coffee & Inspirational Songs

Another day of cold coffee & inspirational songs
I’m trying to survive with all my might
I’m not looking to be acceptable
Merely wishing to cherish what’s in my sight
Ink smudges quietly upon my palms
Unsure of my words, failing with adequate prose
Years fall into decades, but still
I’m flailing; conjuring an incomplete rose
The muse sits rocking, mocking
She struts out of reach of what I believe
Taunting me to sell my soul in angst
So I cover my typewriter in a sheet of Celtic weave

Hobnobbing On A Summer’s Day

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Hobnobbing on a summer’s day
Listening to a calm Pan flute
Barefooted on the peaceful grass
But this heat makes it all moot
Ignoring all the world’s hate
We choose love above all the static
Holding on for a moral life
Survival in this society is never automatic