Lost

All days come to an end
All sorrows slip away into the night
Light is just on the horizon
The morning hour dark lasts not

Happiness is not a choice
No more than a bird is not meant to fly
No less than a dog knows its owner
Still, be still my heart

Clouds hide the sun
But yield the heavenly water
To make strong the earth
To bear forth fruits

Cling to one another briefly
Knowing each time you let go
You may see each other no more
It may be your last embrace

Do not forget your love
Do not forget her face
When the night closes in
Picture the sweet smile of the angel

All days come to an end
All sorrows slip away into the night
Light is just on the horizon
But she is gone forever

The Burning

They were coming down the hill all in a line.  Swords swinging from their hips, spears pointing towards the sky.  The hunt had been successful.  There were three boars each one carried by four men.  The leader of the hunting party, Sir Varin of Lance, rode a mighty steed with a black coat.  The beast rode proudly at the head of the party, its head held high and its eyes focused straight ahead.

Children came running from village to see the party return.  Women holding babes stood and watched from their doorsteps.  Many women had husbands returning in the party.  Lady Syra, the wife of Sir Varin, stood at the doorway of the min hall waiting for her husband to come to her.  She wanted to run to him, but she knew this is would be improper of her.  So instead she waited with bated breath.

The old Lord Targin of Brhee also waited outside the main hall.  He carried a book with him as he almost always did.  His son Tomahs was returning that day as well.  All the young lads who had not gone on the hunt and joined in the returning party and walked with the hunters.

When Sir Varin rode up to the main hall and got off his horse his wife then ran to him and they embraced.  She beamed at him.  The days they were apart had been difficult for her, and for him, though the hunt had occupied him enough.

"How was it?" she asked.

"The hunt," said Sir Varin loudly to all gathered around, "was successful!  Tonight we feast good people of Brhee!"

The people cheered and laughed with excitement.  The children all continued to laugh and dance around and peasant folk all began to chatter among one another.

That night the feast was held in the main hall, but there were so many people that tables had to be set up outside.  The three boars were roasted and served along with an abundance of vegetables and the finest ale and wine.  People talked and laughed and sang songs of merriment.  The children played on the floor.  They chases each other or threw bones for the dogs and played with the cats with small balls of string.  It was a happy night.

But deep out of the woods a great evil crawled.  The Goracks came from their caves.  They brought torches with their wicked battle axes.  The Goracks were not human.  They were devil-like creatures with cruel horns that twisted out of their ugly heads.  They were up to ten feet tall, but usually no smaller than eight.  They had thick muscular arms for ripping and tearing.  The Goracks sole purpose in life was destroy all humans.  They hated humans with a passion.  They loved nothing more than to destroy them.

The Goracks came to the town and began to light it on fire.  Everyone was attending the feast and by the time someone saw the fires it was too late.  They were raging all around and spreading closer and closer to the main hall.  The villagers were frightened and women and children cried.
Sir Varin walked out to the front the hall and drew he sword.  he raised it into the air.

"Cursed be you Goracks!" he shouted.

It was answered by a monstrous bellow.  A victorious bellow.

And Brhee burned.

Wabby

"Are we going to go for a walk today, Wabby?"

"Yes, Jack, yes we are."

"It's gonna be fun isn't it, Wabby?"

"Yes, Jack, we'll have a real fun time."

"Yes, Jack.  We need to eat.  We've got to stay healthy."

"You're so smart, Wabby.  I love you."

"I love you too, baby."

"Do you think we'll always be friends, Wabby?"

"Yes Jack, I think we will be."

"The doctor says you ain't real, Wabby."

"The doctor is a smart man, Jack."

"What you saying, Wabby.  You saying you ain't real?"

"I said the doctor is a smart man."

"He says the medicine will make you go away...I don't want to lose you, Wabby."

"I'll always be with you, Jack.  I'll always be in your heart."

"You promise?"

"Yes, Jack.  Because I love you.  Now do what the good doctor says."

"Okay, Wabby.  I love you too."

He swallowed the pills and Wabby went away.

That Moment When Your Heart Stops

She stood at the edge of the cliff.  Should she jump?  No the fall would surely kill her.  But maybe that was a better death than the one behind her.  Who knew what he would do to her, but killing her slowly, that was a sure thing.  Slowly and painful.  Most likely there would be lots of blood.  He would mutilate her, once he was done using her body.  He was the sickest of the sick.  She knew it.  She'd heard all the reports of what he'd done to those other women.  Twelve other women.  She would be the thirteenth.

A thought crossed her mind.

Thirteen was an unlucky number.  No, she wasn't really superstitious.  But maybe, just maybe, he'd be caught this time.  Maybe thirteen would be his unlucky murder and the police would catch and send him to hell.  That was where he belonged.  Hell.  The deepest most evil part of it.

She wasn't sure where she was going.  Would she go to heaven?  She had gone to church since she was a little girl.  But her heart had never really been in it.  She believed in God...she believed in her savior.  Yes...she was going to heaven.  She was sure of it.  She was sure of it.

What would her family feel like.  They would miss her probably.  She's never been close with her brothers and sisters, or even her parents for that matter. But she knew they would miss her, just as much as she would miss them if they died.

She was going to die.  She could jump off this cliff to the rocky waters below.  Or she could wait to be raped and ripped up by the mad man chasing her.

She looked behind her.  Any moment he'd be coming around that corner, carrying his evil ax.

Alex.  She was going to miss Alex.  They'd been together since highschool.  He was her best friend.  If there ever was a real Prince Charming it was her beloved Alex.  She had tried to call him before she lost her phone.  There had been no answer and she hadn't had time to leave a message.  She only wanted to tell him she loved him one last time.

She couldn't jump.  She just couldn't do it.  She collapsed on the ground and began to cry.  She began to shake.  She closed her eyes and curled up in a ball.  She waited.

A hand grabbed her shoulder.  Instinctively she screamed and lashed out with her hand.  She wasn't going down without a fight.

"Marissa!" called a voice.

She opened her eyes.

"ALEX!" she screamed and flung her arms around him.  He was covered in blood.

"You're alright, I've got you now."  he said as she sobbed into his shoulder.  He wrapped her tightly in his arms.

"What happened?  How did you find me?"

"I tracked your phone from the office when I saw you called.  I had a feeling something was wrong.  I found your car...I saw the tracks."

"Did you see...him?"

"He's dead Mar...I shot him."

"Alex....I love you."

"I love you too.  Let's get you home."

Richard's Town

Richard's Town was a small community in the once peaceful and quiet town of Fallbrook.  It was a gated community with an iron fence that ran all the way around the perimeter.  It had two entrances, one at either end of the the town.  The fences had barbed wire all along the top, and outside there were trenches about five feet wide and five feet deep.  At the bottom of the trench were wooden stakes carved to a sharp point.  Behind the fences were flood lights that ran on generators.  They were all hooked up to the main generator in the center of the town. The two gates were opened manually and had barbed wire on the top as well.  The houses in the town were similarly fortified.  The windows were boarded up from both the inside and outside, the doors fitted with bolts and latches on the inside.

All along the fence line walked guards.  Armed guards with guns and swords, bows and arrows, spears and axes.  They patrolled the perimeter at all times and at the gates there were always half a dozen guards.  On the outside of Richard's Town were the seekers.  They were the walking dead.  Mindless monsters that roamed the earth.  Ninety-five percent of the world's population had turned into the seekers, wanting flesh and blood from the other five percent that remained sane and human.  They bred at an alarming rate and their growth was accelerated by the virus, whatever is was.  Within a month a baby seeker was born and within a year it was fully grown into an adult.  It had been five years from the start of the virus.  Richard's Town was a colony of survivors made up of around two hundred people, men, women, and children.  They guarded the town day and night.

Richard was the man who had started the town, and he named it after himself.  Or rather the people decided to name it after him to which he had no objections.  Now Richard was a practical man.  He did what needed to be done to keep his colony safe.  He cared for each and every person that he watched over, and he really cared for them.  More than once, before they had settled in Richard's Town, Richard had nearly lost his life defending his people.  The seekers were slow and not very bright, but in large numbers they could cause a problem...and there were so many of them, they were always breeding.  But they did not like the light, so once the flood lights were set up Richard's Town became a safe haven.  Richard was the perfect leader for them.

But they were running into a problem.  Food was running low.  They had stocked up and brought in cans of food from the surrounding neighborhoods, but the supply was running low.  Richard was going to lead a party of ten men, including himself,  deeper into the surrounding area.  They would travel during the day with two trucks to gather as much as they could.  They would have to start doing this on a weekly basis at least.  Richard's girlfriend suggested they start growing crops.  They had done so but waiting for the crops to grow, well, it just took time.  They needed food now.

They got up early in the morning and armed themselves.  Richard buckled on his trusty six-shooter and hunting knife.  On his back he had sheathed a large two-handed sword he named The Bull.  The other nine men all carried swords as well except for one man who had a battleaxe. They carried guns as well, but melee weapons were better for looting missions.  It kept the noise down, noise that might attract other seekers.  They set out in the trucks heading towards the old downtown Fallbrook.  The sun was shining and the seeks were all hiding indoors or under cars or in bushes and trees.  The seekers did not chase after the trucks at all.  Even when they stopped and got out the seekers did not approach them because of the sun.  The light must have hurt their skin because they hated it so much.

They arrived in a neighborhood they had not yet looted.  It was a nice neighborhood, also a gated community.  But these gates sat wide open broken at the hinges.  They started on the first block of houses.  They kicked down the door and cleared out the house, killing any seekers that they came across.  The houses were full of the creatures, but once they were taken care of they were able to find lots of canned goods.  They moved to the next block of houses, but they were surprised to find a barricade on the street.  There were me standing on top the barricade.  One of the men opened a gate off to the side and approached.  The other men all held guns aimed at the trucks.

"Who are you and what do you want with us?" asked the man.  He held a pistol on his hand.  Richard rolled down the widow.

"The name's Richard," he said.  "We're just scavenging the neighborhood for food."

"Well you can't scavenge here, move along," the man said.

"What's your name?" asked Richard.

"Thomas," the man replied.  "Now move along."

"Are you in charge, Thomas?"

"No, I'm second in command."

"Well let me speak with whoever is in charge.  You see, we come from a colony.  A much bigger, and probably safer colony."

"So what?"

"So...you could maybe join us, there is strength in numbers."  Thomas stood thoughtfully for a moment.

"Wait here, get out of your vehicles and wait here.  I'll be back."

He walked away and came back a a few moments later with another man.  This man was tall, at least six and a half feet, and had broad shoulders and thick muscular arms.  He was to say the least, intimidating.

"My name is Eric," said the big man.

"Richard, pleased to meet you, Eric," said Richard.

"Thomas here has told me of your proposal.  But let me tell you, we don't like outsiders.  I don't like this colony of yours, and I don't like you.  You should have left when we gave you the chance."

He turned and began to walk away.  As he did so he raised his arm and the soldiers along the barricade opened fire.  Richard and all his men were gunned down.  Eric's small colony, The Pike, lived on.  Richard's Town people were worried when Richard and the other men did not come back. Two days later they accepted the worst.  Women and children cried at the loss of their husbands and fathers.  They sent out a scouting party to look for them.  The three men came back and reported the small colony of The Pike, and that the bodies of Richard and the other men were lashed to the barricade out front.  Some people wanted to wipe out The Pike, others said it was best to leave them alone.

A small boy, only ten years old, who had lost his father Ben at The Pike sat alone in the woods in Richard's Town.  He did not cry.  He had never cried in his life, not that he could remember anyway.  He just sat there, wondering why in times of such strife people could not just get along.  They all had a common enemy.  The seekers were a danger to them all.  So why could people not just come together, and help each other?

It was a good question with a simple answer.

Teach Me

I'm held together with glue

But I'm still solid stone and wood

Feeble and weak I may be sometimes

But I hold fast in what I believe

Foolish and reckless as I might be

You still love me and bless me

Tiresome I might grow on myself

You are there for me always

You sent me an angel

To protect me to keep my heart

Teach me to love like You

Teach me to sacrifice

Bleed if I must, break if I must

To keep my angel safe

To keep Your name sacred

Teach me to be a man

Teach me oh Creator

That I might be a leader, and more than a conqueror

Blood Sky

Tora begot Ablam, Ablam begot Thagar, Thagar begot Temon, Temon begot Lucius, Lucius begot Fangar, Fangar begot Elmis, and Elmis begot Tablan who begot Ebor.  Thus lay the genealogy of Ebor's family.  They were not high-born folk, nor were they poor peasants.  They were a middle-class family who lived in the great city of Thamopolis.  Ebor, like his father's before him was a blacksmith.  He was no common blacksmith though.  For he had Elf blood in his veins.  Elves were known for their natural ability to forge beautiful and even sometimes magical metals.  Ebor was, unfortunately, the least skilled of all his family as a blacksmith.  Nevertheless he worked at it day and night, forging blades and armor that would sell for nothing but the highest price.  Ebor himself had forged King Mormont's current set of armor and blade.  The King's blade was short and broad with a hilt that twisted like tree roots.  The pommel was in the shape of a two sided flower with delicate petals.  Elven runes were etched into the blade and it was forged with spells that kept the blade from dulling.  It was probably Ebor's finest work, though he knew that his father or his father before him could have done better.  Still Ebor was the best smithy in the city, probably in all the land of Aeron.

One day Ebor was working, hammering away at the blade of what would soon be a beautiful exotic looking scimitar.  A man in a cloak with the hood drawn up walked into the workshop.  Ebor thought it was odd that the man wore a heavy cloak, with the hood up no less, because it was very hot out, as most days were during the summer months in Thamopolis.  The man's face was hidden by the hood, his head bowed down towards the ground.  In fact Ebor was not so sure the man even had a face beneath the hood.  Everything about the man was strange and slightly frightening.

"Hello there," said Ebor.

"Greetings, blacksmith," the man said in a raspy, low voice.

"How can I be of service?"

"I wish you to make me a blade."

"What sort of blade, most customers who want a custom blade have a drawing of sorts, some kind of plan."

"I have no drawings, but I will tell you my plan."

The man stood there and when he said nothing Ebor cleared his throat and asked "What is your plan for the blade?"

"It is to be a double edged broadsword.  I know you infuse the blade with Elvish spells to keep it in perfect condition.  I trust my blade will not dull anymore than the King's blade.  The hilt may be standard, but the ends of the hand guard are to be rounded in a teardrop shape, with the end point facing out.  I want the handle covered in wolf's hair.  The pommel is to be shaped with a wolf's head, two diamonds will sit as eyes.  The whole hilt of the sword must be coated in gold."

"This will be an expensive sword.  My labor alone is not cheap."

"Price is no object.  Tell me, how much will it cost?"

"Twenty gold coins, and ten silvers."

"Very well.  I will be by tomorrow to pick the sword up, before sunset."

"I cannot finish the blade in that time, besides I have other weapons I must finish first, orders that were placed before yours."

"I will return before sunset tomorrow.  You will have the blade finished."

The man walked out and Ebor called after him.  He ran outside and looked all about the street but the cloaked man was nowhere to be seen.  Ebor returned inside and continued his work.  He finished the scimitar that night and though he had another sword that he had to start on the next day, he decided to work on the wolf sword first.  The wolf head pommel alone would hours to make.  Ebor was not sure he could finish the blade in time, but he had to try.

The sun was setting and the cloaked man entered the smithy.  He dropped a bag of coins on the table and faced Ebor.

"Is it ready?" he asked.

"I finished it not ten minutes ago," Ebor said.  He walked to the sword rack and pulled the wolf sword off and handed it to the cloaked man.

The man grasped the sword and held it in front of him.  His face was still hidden, and Ebor was not sure how the man could even see anything.  The man stared at the blade for a few moments then turned and cut Ebor on the arm.  Ebor gave a shout of pain.

"What did you do that for?"

"I want you to feel what it is like to feel pain at your own hand.  Your hands made this blade, I cut you with it.  You are the reason you are feeling this pain.  You caused this pain.  Every sword you makes causes someone pain somewhere, you should feel some of that pain."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"You forge death."

"I forge swords and armor!"

"You forge war."

"I'm just a smith!"

"You forge evil.  Now you must feel what you forge."

The man raised the sword high above his head and brought is down, cutting Ebor open from shoulder to stomach.  Blood gushed forward and pooled around as Ebor collapsed to the ground.  The cloaked man stuck the sword in Ebor's head and the took his leave.

The sun set red.

The Judge

"It started as riots in the street.  People making messes, beating other people up.  Then the killing started.  The police tried to stop it, but sheer numbers drove them back.  So many died...the bodies just...piled in the streets.  The smell was unbearable for a while.  Even in the cleaner parts the stench crept in and lingered there.  Your nose finally got used to the stink of rotting flesh, and the sight of dead bodies was just something you got used to.  The only safe place was your home, and even then there was guarantee.  Houses were raided and looted.  I remember the neighbors had moved in with us, we had boarded up the house, but they got in anyways.  One night a group of men broke in...killed my father and the other men, raped the women...I'm not sure why they kept me alive...but they took me with them.  I was their prisoner for three days before I escaped.  I came to a small settlement that had once been a gated community.  Well it was still gated, but fortified, with guards patrolling the perimeter.  A family took me in...I met your mother there.  Life in that place was good.  I got a job in a library.  One the bigger houses had been turned into one, and there were all sorts of books there.  I had that job for a while.  By the time I was eighteen I married your mother, and then I did something that I had never imagined.  The community was getting too large, too many people and not enough room.  So I went to the town sheriff and told him I would lead a group of people to another location and start another community.  So I did.  And here we now."

"Here we are..."

"It is time for you to make a choice.  You can kill me, your own father, take what you will, or you can be on your way.  I'm not making you stay here, no one is.  I don't know what has driven you to this."

"You know damn right what drove me to this."

"The government?"

"You're nothing but a troublemaker.  I'm ashamed to call you my father."

"I'm not a troublemaker.  I'm standing for my freedom.  You should to.  Not be following somebody because why, he looks pretty in a suit?  He's a fake.  He wants power, and he'll take every last bit of freedom from us.  You know that's what started the riots in the first place, it's what caused the first government to fall.  They tried to control everyone's lives, and people snapped.  They got tired of it.  It happened before it will happen again.  Anyone who follows him, yourself included, are being played for fools."

"I'm not a fool.  You're the fool.  When you are dead I'll be taking over this town.  I will serve President Simon until I die.  Because he's a man worth serving."

"Well then...why don't you kill me and get this over with?  There's no more to be said."

Steven looked at his father, pointing his gun at his chest.  He wanted to kill him...or did he?  Those were his orders, to kill William Ryan.  To kill his own father...to take over the town for the government...for President Simon.

He pulled the trigger.  He father fell to the floor.  Steven bit his lip then walked out of the room.

"What took you so long?" asked Reg.

"He wanted to talk," was all Steven said.

"He's dead then?"

"He's dead."

Everyone had been gathered in the center of town.  Steven walked to the fountain in the middle and stood up on the wall and looked out over the people.  They all looked frightened and confused.  He saw his men, all standing around with guns.

"People of Oldtown, you have been taken under the jurisdiction of the New Government of California.  I, Steven Ryan hereby take the position of town mayor.  All cases are now ruled by me and all law is in the hands of the new sheriff, Reg Maggly.  You may all return to your homes and go about your daily business, but if you wish to leave the premises you must first consult Sheriff Maggly or myself.  That is all."

Steven stepped down from the fountain and walked back towards the house that was now his.  He ordered one of the me to remove his father's body and clean the floor.  Steven went into his office and shut the door.

* * *

A letter arrived for Steven early on a Saturday morning.  It was from President Simon himself asking Steven how the taking of Oldtown had gone.  Steven wrote his reply and then decided to go for a walk.  He left Oldtown and walked north along the old highway.  The cracked and broken road stretched on before him and the dusty gray sky rose high at the horizon.  A razor crow flew above him, its leathery wings beating against the air, its claws opening and closing periodically.  The beast no doubt was hoping that Steven would drop down dead, so that it could feast on his flesh.  Razor crows had appeared about a decade ago.  No one knew where they came from, or what exactly they were, but they resembled a skeletal, reptilian bird.  Since they were scavengers and had razor sharp claws they were dubbed razor crows.  It was a fitting name for the ugly avian species.  The razor crow continued to circle overhead and Steven walked onward.

He came to a a bridge that stretched over a river.  As he walked over the bridge he saw a cloaked and hooded figure standing in the center of the bridge.  The figure had its back to him but as he approached it turned and faced him.  Steven found himself face to face with a skeleton.  The empty hollow eyes stared at him and a bony mouth hung slightly open.

"Welcome traveler," said the skeleton.

"Hello..." said Steven warily.

"What do you seek beyond this bridge?"

"I am only wandering, I seek nothing."

"Do you know what lies beyond this bridge?"

"No, what's beyond the bridge?"

"Paradise.  A land a green.  Flowing rivers of clean water, trees bearing the best fruit."

"Really, and what is this lad called?"

"Some call it Neweden.  I simply call it Paradise...because that's what it is...paradise."

"Who are you?"

"The Judge."

"The Judge of what."

"The Judge of who passes by to Paradise, and who dies here."

"I think I'll just go back..."

"You cannot go back.  It is too late.  What's done is done."

"Well then, can I go on?"

"No you cannot.  You are unworthy of Paradise."

"So where am I supposed to go?"

"Nowhere.  Here your life ends and your bones turn to dust and blow away in the wind.  My judgement is passed."

Steven's heart stopped and he fell down dead.

The razor crow swooped down to begin its feast.  The Judge turned his back, facing Paradise.

My Angel

The joy in my heart cannot be expressed
But this feeling of peace is one of the best
My happiness is shown by the smile I wear
From ear to ear it makes people stare
But I don't care about that too much
I'm in my own world with my love and such
I've been blessed beyond my dreams
She's like an angel or so it would seem
I like to think she saved my life
She came in at the peak of my strife
When all of me had come undone
She came to my rescue, came at a run
Headfirst she dove in and pulled me out
I thank my God for her and all about
I like to think she's an angel, one of the best
And the joy in my heart cannot be expressed

The Vampire and the Wolf-girl

The Vampire and the Wolf-girl

Deep in the Black Mountains there lived a vampire by the name of Khan. He lived in a great castle guarded by his deathless Dark Knights. In the mountains around the castle were countless caves, big and small, inhabited by the dragons that Khan bred. Khan was the only dragon breeder for hundreds of leagues and they were not cheap. Khan was enormously rich, the cellars of his castle being full of gold and jewels. It was said that even the dragon caves were stuffed with countless treasures. Khan was ruler of the Black Mountains and the surrounding swamp lands.

Far to the east there lay the Grass Lands and the great Silver Wood. The woods were home to many creatures and beings including elves, centaurs, fauns, and sages, and wolves. It was also home to the queen of the Silver Wood, the wolf-girl named Alexandra. She was a beautiful girl with long dark hair and gray eyes that held all the secrets of the world. She lived in a large tree house in a massive sagewood tree. She bred wolves. They were not ordinary wolves but smart wolves that understood her words and voice and did as she commanded. They were her pack, and she led them. All who lived in the Silver Wood loved her and she ruled over them as a great queen.

In the north there lay the Cursed Mountains. Here the evil Lord Vorgath ruled over his filthy hordes of goblins. They were a plague of darkness on the land. The goblins roamed in great masses over the mountains. They began to creep into the Grass Lands and cause mayhem and shed much blood of the free folk there. So Alexandra rallied her people together and called upon Khan to help fight Vorgath's armies. Khan loved the wolf-girl with all his heart and vowed to do everything in his power to stop Vorgath and his goblins from destroying the Grass Lands and the Silver Wood. They met on the Plain Fields early one morning. On the other side of the fields stood the army of Vorgath. Vorgath was at the front of his forces atop a great ugly spider. Khan was at the front of his forced riding a large golden dragon named Vlador. The other dragons were behind him all bearing the Dark Knights that served Khan. Alexandra and her army of woodland folks stood next to Khan's. Vorgath made the first move, sending forth his legions of goblins. The battle was long and bloody, but it was won and the goblins and Vorgath were driven back to the Cursed Mountains, broken and battered. But it was not without a great price.

Khan had gotten off Vlador's back to fight on the ground with his Dark Knights. Though he slew hundreds of goblins he was finally overwhelmed and bound in chains. A wooden stake was then driven through his heart. Alexandra was fighting Vorgath himself when she was cut down by his cruel blade of silver. The dragons mourned the loss of their master and the folk of the Silver Wood cried long into the night at the death of their queen.

Vorgath rotted from his battle wounds and died in his castle. The goblins now leaderless feared to leave the Cursed Mountains. The dragons lived on in the Black Mountains and the Dark Knights still watched over Khan's castle. The Silver Wood never again had another queen, but the folk there lived in peace for the rest of their days. Khan and Alexandra lived on in eternity in the afterlife, together forever.

Tell Me

I used to be free but then I fell off the track

I got another one comin' and a knife in the back

It's a mighty selfish move to end your own life

Even when you got problems even when you got strife

Take a long look you're no better than I

Tell me that, tell me and look me in the eye

You never get far when you're livin' on the run

You got one eye open and you sleep with a gun

It's a mighty selfish move to take all the glory

Because in the end it's another man's story

Take a long look you're no better than I

Tell me that now, tell me and look me in the eye

It's been nine long months before the child was born

You get no sleep and the marriage is torn

So count your blessings and be on your way

You got no place to go so you might as well stay

Take a last look you're no better than I

Tell me that boy, tell me and look me in the eye

So what have we learned we're just sittin' down here

We got people on the pedal but no one to steer

Everybody's movin' in different directions

Tell me what do you know 'bout the class A section

So take your long look cuz you're no better than I

Tell me that man, tell me and look me in the eye

I'm Not About To

Think a little change in your mind

Fiddle around with ideas, toy with them and find

A new book filled with ideas and pictures

Let the light pour in through tinted glass

A boneless ham of a man in the shape of geese

Flying through the sky on clouds of pie

Rather to live or rather to die

I'm on, I'm so on the cage

I'm letting myself slip under into the maze

Preference my dear friend, remember that

I'm not about to release the guilt

You know that I know that they all knew

But that was a long time ago

This is now, this is what it means to be

I'm not about to release the happiness

Because I know in the end you are all the same

Riddles that no one understands

A finding out of the past and all alone

So you are in a pickle and I'll just laugh

Because life is too funny to be taken so seriously

And the only one who breaks my curse

The only one who has ever really taken me in

I'm not about to release the...oops, too late