Looking For An Exit

The sun it rises early

To play tag with the breeze

When shadows start dancing

To the rhythm of the leaves.

The morning silence is a mystery

In echo’s we can’t tell.

For echo’s all ring hollow

Like pebbles in a well.

While you’re busy looking down at me

For things I didn’t do,

Be thankful you got lucky,

Cause I could just as well be you.

My circle it gets smaller

In the heatwaves of the street,

I am looking for some scraps, like gold

That someone didn’t eat.

I keep trying everyday

Through the stories that I tell,

I am looking for an exit

Or the entrance out of hell.

My salvation come from my survival

And the things that you can’t see,

While you tuck away your tax break wealth

Pretending you are free.

Some are convicted by the bottle,

Or the needle work of time,

I am convicted by my loneliness

And life’s songs that didn’t rhyme.

But we all end up in heaven

In our own space and time.

Some cling to their Midas Touch

And all the wealth that they can find

I will wait for the sunshine of the morning

To play tag with the breeze

When the shadows all start dancing

To the rhythm of the leaves.

We’re all looking for the same door

Its just up around the bend.

I keep trying everyday

Through the stories that I tell,

I am looking for an exit

Or the entrance out of hell.

For those who think their better

They only know one side,

I know the dirt roads and blind corners

Of life’s few seconds ride.

 

Fred Steele © 2018

Road Scribes of America ™ 2012