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SOLID GROUND
DAVE THE POET

Passing time, Running hard
On my way, To the old bone yard
The dreams I chased, Slowed me down
Burned real bright, I swear its true
Look me in the eyes, As I lie to you
Dead to the touch, Not making a sound
Six feet under, On solid ground

Angels are flying, I feel free
Sunshine passes, Through the trees
I wonder why, It always rained on me
Took some time, Didn’t take long
Must have done, Something wrong
Loved only me, Sure is a lonely sound
Six feet under, On solid ground

You choose your weather, Not the weatherman
Seemed so simple, Had the perfect plan
Read the good book, After the fact
Never knew, Quite how to act
Had a place, To make a stand
Wasted time, Like falling sand
Collecting broken dreams and misfit toys
Sunday thoughts, Of refugee altar boys
More time lost, Then wanting to be found
Six feet under, On solid ground

Passing time, Running hard
On my way, To the old bone yard
The dreams I chased, Slowed me down
Burned real bright, I swear its true
Look me in the eyes, As I lie to you
Dead to the touch, Not making a sound
Six feet under, On solid ground