Doing Up The Laces On My Boots


Born beneath a shooting star
in the corner of your mind,
before I stole my first breath
my hand was nailed to the open door.

The first song jingled jangled
and the star went on,
the sky grew dark to give
the light room to shine.

With one hand waving free
reaching for the infinite sky,
I watched the birds fly high
as the rain falls to wash
the stones at my feet.

The first song jingled jangled
the star was long gone,
the sky grew dark to give
the light room to shine.

Take a breath and make a fist,
you never feel the same breeze twice.
The flowers by the door have grown,
and the only blood on my hand's my own.


xx Me xx