Finchley

music, tone, voice, rhythm define my life, write this hymn. mold my thoughts into your streams, awake from silence to bad dreams. cause my tired limbs to move; make my grey-tint mind prove that there’s a love still after all beating hard behind this wall . music, tone, ah, voice, and rhythm! hear me sing out, on a whim. I’ll dance and cry and leap for joy then still and listen, smile coy. veins full of the morning sun eyes painted with what I’ve won, capture me in your arms, I plead for this song, alone, is all I need. music, tone, voice and rhythm, take me ‘til my ears grow dim. I’ll have

sweet soda on my tongue and laughter in my throat the music is too loud to hear the train a mile away. my tie is skewed, my sleeves rolled up; the windows fold into the car and winter wind pours in. with a pocket full of pens, and a head full of dreams, we can make this work. new doorknobs only breaths away, to open to a new sunrise and sunset, at a different dining table. a new family, hand-picked members this time full of grace and joy in their own unique manner. there are no good-byes, only fresh hellos still pale and in the package. so I roll my sleeves and get to work, smiling as I dream my dreams, no longer alon