All words intellectual & spiritual
property of Steven Moore
Please . . . be real . . . BE REAL!
Let's be Friends.
JUNKFARM
Windmill sighs to the broken cellos
Electric lines hum on copper halos
Old tea kettle lets a whistle wail
While old barn door rattles every nail
We can grow a love
We can grow a faith
We can grow a home
On the JunkFarm
A thousand jars unsqueak their lids
Yellow sheets flap in the wind
And rusted dodge turns its keys
While pick and shovel hide in the weeds
And billy goat just shakes its head
With stomach full of paint and lead
The rooster crows the scarecrow scares
The Junk the King the Land the Air
BRIM FULL
I see broken souls from the highway
I see broken souls from the street
I got me a broken heart
Where do you want to meet
I know a little diner on route 14 & 5
We'll sit and drink the bean dream
And talk about why we're alive
I've got a box full of secret locks
And i'll crack the code gold
And i'll lift the lid and you will see
That it was full of everything
That i had said
Deep inside your purse
You'll pull out a hearse
With the corpses of your dreams piled high as the sky can get
And we'll mumble chats
Breathe our cigarettes
Staring down at the empty cups in front of us
Absent coffe lacking plans having talked
We'll be Brim Full
You get our your needle
I'll get out my thread
We'll set our souls a mending
While we make love in your bed
We won't waste our thoughts on a weeping loss
That may be down the road no
Afterall you can only lose
Something that you own
We might get displaced or thrown about in space
To seek the scenes that keep our clocks a ticking
But for now drink it down
And we'll be brim full
TODAY IS WEDNESDAY
The last day the final day
There will be a lot of buildings falling down
The last day the final day
There will be a lot more sky than there was before
But not today
Today's just Wednesday
The last day the final day
There will be an ocean full of oil
The last day the final day
There will be no one who gives damn
And bread will be free
