Storms rage as I turn a page
A new chapter in the book that won’t cease growing in size
I realize, synthesize and harmonize with the newfound storyline
Fresh off the vine
Fresh off the press no less
No mess
A sweet tune, from June, to swoon so soon lying under new moon
Waxing Crescent, oh so pleasant
Aside a weary sun, that’s had its fun
On what may be the last hoorah of summer
Leaves turn, they fall, October’s call
Pick up the phone, answer that shit
That tune’s gonna be a hit
A jam, a slam, yes ma’am
You can tell in the sound of my voice
Rejoice, no choice but to sing aloud
Draw a crowd, jot it down, not a frown, but a smile ear to ear
Can you hear?
The song that plays oftly near
A short walk away, a stones throw they say
Crazy how we just met one day, so many days ago
The spark began to grow, a light began to glow
In a dim lit room we both began to know
Stoke the flame, say my name
As we bid goodbye, or say goodnight
This tune, this light, we know it’s bright
Truly, what a delight.
