Black Poetry - Shaun Brennan

On top of pine trees I will wait
For tonight
I'll figure what these hands can make
And bring to light
I'll go into the woods and cut down all the trees in my way
I'll build new homes for moles buried deep in these songs that I'll play

My hands are tired bloody and sore
But I don't care
My jeans are tattered dirty and torn
I got no money to spare
I'll stay out in the rain and cold and stamp my foot in the ground as I play
I'll play for old men in the street until they're feeling ok

And I can't wait no more,
My hands are aching and sore,
I just need to say
All that I scratched in that tree
And all I've said to the sea
All that black poetry
All that black poetry

On top of pine trees I will wait
For tonight
I'll figure what my hands can make
And bring to light
I'll go into the woods and cut down all the trees in my way
I'll build new homes for moles buried deep in these songs that I'll play

And I can't wait no more,
My hands are aching and sore,
I just need to say
All that I scratched in that tree
And all I've said to the sea
All that black poetry

And I can't wait no more,
My hands are aching and sore,
I just need to say
All that I scratched in that tree
And all I've said to the sea
All that black poetry

Category:

Entertainment

Tags:

• Black
• Poetry

[jockey7935]

super stuff shaun