Music By Walter Trout
10 November, 2002
Ripples of life
Ripples of life bubbling down stream towards a
bend in the corner of life. Never stopping for
a moment to let one gaze upon earths bounty of
beauty, continuously flowing across the roads,
and through the meadows, letting us only glimpse
the things that we want to have the most.
Passing by so quickly that we have no chance to
reach out and grab onto the choices that we wish
to make, only being tossed the remainders, as
the rest fleetingly get away.
Silence speaking in welts, blasting us with the
eerie calm that seems to linger before each storm.
Calling upon our ghosts of past, counting on them
to tear at the edges of our skin, never letting us
forget any part of our chapters in our journals of
And as each of the pages turn over and lay open a
new fresh plane, we still fumble with the corners,
carefully at willl. Afraid that others may find
the true pictures distasteful.
One day as the ripples turn into rapids, we will
know that our lives are nearing the end. And
before we drown in the sorrows that swell in
the pupils of our eyes, we hope that the release
of our spirits will reach into the other side.
For how can we take with us the stacks of minds
earnings, as our paydays have been spent.
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