MichaelB

Username: MichaelB

Song Stats

Kudos!

Check out the kudos our featured artists have given MichaelB!

  • One of Each
  • Marti Dodson

Marti Dodson commented on MichaelB's lyric:

"very pretty imagery!
"

(more)
Lyric by MichaelB:

"...a trail’s behind me // There were seeds in the sand. Tomorrow they’ll stand and flower over the path."

Marti Dodson commented on MichaelB's lyric:

"very pretty imagery!
"

(more)
Lyric by MichaelB:

"...a trail’s behind me // There were seeds in the sand. Tomorrow they’ll stand and flower over the path."

My Lyrics

Written for:

  • The Great Gary Lucas
  • Marti Dodson
I’m holding one for you now, will dreams be interwoven? Run the thread through both of us, spun again in golden.
Holding them in bloom, the whole, interwoven. To the fractures of the world our dreams are not beholden.
Shake away our reason and all seven senses rhyme with the time we’d stolen, moments back and we condone our crime.
Our shore lies open wide, broken waves whole in purpose. Stolen Moments where our best returns to break the surface.
The shoreline opens wide, we’re on / quiet tides of water. Hold the moon a Stolen Moment. Sun demands a daughter

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Piece of fallen star safely in your hands, we’d stolen, moments after we dreamed a better plan.

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Spirited up into clouds, cast without a shadow/ Stolen for the moment to soar high above the battle
A chorus from beyond holds the hope that we belong. We’re soaring left to throw our shadow on the right.
A chorus from beyond and the hope that we belong Are both dashed on some creator’s might.

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War waged at a pace that The Fates are laying waste, Did we choose? Or were we the chosen ones?
When the reins, burning up, bare and blister your hold And the beast turns back with fiery eyes.

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Then you scatter to the wind what offering is left It’s dry but those ashes feed the roots. Pouring in your soul, but a twisted garden grows Pain is paid double-time for your fruits.
Then a quiet from deep inside, Swelling up and giving light. Breathing long, your arms are wide, To steal it back, your second sight.

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You have to stop. Start to see. Steal what’s already free. Moments shine. Healing hues. Alive again inside the Muse.
And the stains in the crush of fingers clutching us will be remains of past poetic hearts
That stain in the crush, what reaching fingers clutch, reminds us what our hearts can become.
Their needs. They squeeze, and keep a solid hold on a pulse or what ‘else they can count.

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I’m gonna break if I don’t bend. Can’t burn a candle at three ends. The race is on to get it done. The pressure’s on to make a diamond.

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V // I keep it up, have to cover, under oath, tilt the mic, mind the time, do the work now pack it in // Then I retreat. Salty sweet sandy cove. I’ll wander over, brushing by, help you to the watercolour sea.
I know what I am chasing maybe settled up with me a paper scoring at a reading torn aloud in bits of harmony
So I give it stolen: my tomorrow as your own.

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And those days - when we live them - hold our notes in their rhythm

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Just let the sunset follow. We will rise and reach up tomorrow.

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Let the sun set - don’t follow. We will rise and catch it tomorrow.

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(It is) clear our story has more words so let’s write them and go forward

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(Looks like) our story’s meant to have more words so let’s smile going forward

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...It trails behind me In a rhythm I know. Today and tomorrow I’ll share the music I owe.
...a trail’s behind me // There were seeds in the sand. Tomorrow they’ll stand and flower over the path.
...Of doubts left behind me // There are one hundred ways to tomorrow - be brave/ Just follow your pulse today
.....I’ve got strength behind me// I find I even laugh that tomorrow will pass and / I’ll envy myself today
I’ve (still) got my strength behind me
Better the less we wait for more...
Hold the mo-ment open, (it’s a) closing door...
Hold the moment close, don’t wait for more...

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Long may we live in the moment...

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I have found something I put away — my fearlessness

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Find some fearlessness, free the old hold on my wrist

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Count the wonders: the thunder, a spark and a kiss.
I’ll take *that* time when time’s not important as *this*
Whether you’re ready, O’Darling. Oh...I’m doing this! :P

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We’ll spend the time left singing — not on a wish.
I’ll take the time - time’s not as important as this

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What turned in the surf, here, pushed up to the shore (where) / pointed reasons we knew are (now) rounded and smooth but took on a beauty somehow.
We’ll let them lie, though, as: the past things we’ve let go / Sometimes I just pretend I’m at peace to that end, hoping hope brings me around.

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Measure by measure, structure-to-dust. Is time really moving or is it just us?

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