Paradise in the eyes of my woman
Celestial undertakers cemetery
Cancer full of stars
Blackened sea
I hold in this closed watch
Writing a story in three sentences
I beg you to think long and hard
These things are not simplified


The Summer Part 2- Wreckless cabin

The Summer Part 2- Wreckless cabin

Somewhere in heaven there is a lake house
Three angels prepare this place for me
While living out my end of days
I can remember the first time I ever decided to taste Irish whiskey
Which had been the fine harsh taste of Bush-mills
Summer of 1995
My youthfulness absorbed the freedom of air space sleeping in
The cabin in the backwoods some distance away from the cottage
Where the rest of my family stayed
I made my self an outsider in those very early days
All winter long i bought rock n roll tapes mostly Ac/dc
To play real loud and pollute the open air ways with rock n roll
Early mornings and late evenings
I can even recall gaining compliments from the old timer who lived
Next to the cottage, seemingly loved AC/DC and the Seattle grunge
That summer there was no complaints
Not even from my own troubled father
Two months long of summer freedom
That rustic ole cabin had been my haven
Had been there my first for drinking
Had been my first for making love
That summer had become the first for every bad habit you can think of
And there was not one compliant
Complaints came way later in life
So these three angels who are preparing a place
Build a cabin in heaven beside a lake
They say welcome brother
Let us have firsts within everything holy