Reading lyrics to songs makes me want to write. Write like I used to. When I would put my feelings to words, and the words would put feeling to themselves. There was a time when I was aware of what emotions I was feeling. A time when it was at least tempered if not filtered. And that time saw endless ups and downs, but at least they were marked clearly. And some of it embarrassed me, and some I won’t permit you to see…but it was me. It was raw and unchanged. And it gave me a sense to make sense of this rage and now I can’t find it, it’s difficult to see because it’s been so long that I long to be me. And what of this confusion? Confused I can’t be. But the record keeps playing, what used to be me. And the sound of the lyrics is haunting my dreams and I can’t keep the writing from coming in screams. There’s no need to appease this beast that’s in me, but it’s me that I long for and me I can’t see. Now the writing is coming and it’s taunting in jest, but i like that it’s flowing-I don’t need any rest. Cause the moment is here now, and release is in sight, cause there’s no other way to be fighting this fight and if you try to stop me, I’ll bulldoze you down, cause the lost isn’t lost now and I have been found.

Now on to the next verse, and on to the ground, there’s no turning back…there’s no slowing down. The only way is through, cause I’ve been around, and it always ends up that I’m not up, but down. And the fact that it’s round, and the clown isn’t brown, and now what I’m writing to you seems unsound. But it’s real, can’t you see it? The words are alive. And just try, can’t you breathe it? It leaves in a sigh. Such a marvelous feeling, the escape of the kept, no longer hiding, no longer swept- By the winds and the rains and the fairytale songs. But out it keeps drawing and it’s drawing you along. But it’s okay to feel it. It’s fine to be lost. Nope, there’s no way to kill it, for you’ve counted the cost. And to stop now, oh now, would be a mistake. You signed on the line and accepted the stakes. So keep on to the third, I promise a prize. But you’ll never find it if you look with your eyes…

Alas, to the third verse. And what, you discover? There’s no need to brood. There’s no need to hover. You’re closer than ever, just reach our your arm. That’s it, you feel it. No call for alarm. The freedom. You taste it? It’s ever so true. It belongs to me… I belong to you. So, come, let us share it, there’s more than enough. This freedom is tested. This freedom is tough. But it comes with a price that is higher than most, and I don’t mean to boast, but here comes a toast: I’ve done it, my love. I’ve found it again. The joy that overcomes when I’m strapped with a pen. And the, feeling’s momentous, I don’t want to let go. But I know there are others who’re part of this show. But, the last words, I’ll end on, boy they’ll be a treat. I only wish, this was put, to a beat…

To the one who is true, and the one whom I love, this toast is for you, from your only dove.