I've been waiting on a catharsis from the poetry of thomas wolfe.
But it never comes, I'm just sucking thumb, it's empty on the mountain top.
Drowning in self help, I need to lay myself on your chest so I can sleep.
I wanna live like a fish not confined to any creek.
When my feet were free, all my poetry was worthy of the golden gods.
Now its' "roses red", like a boy cries wolf suicide attempt.
But my baby says, "let's just run away. Art will keep us safe."
And if things keep up, you can bet, I'll marry her someday.
Well, Consider me awake,
Every blade of grass, every smiling baby makes
the blood of life run rich inside my veins.
Consider me a man,
somehow just a part, of the same things that you are.
underneath our skin, we're connected to everything.