A Thousand to Zero

It's where I am
it's where I find myself
but I am okay though.
There may be
reason to hope
it could all be okay
but I don't think so.

It's not what I planned
not where I saw myself
I am in Limbo.
You're a no show
I am here on the shelf
I am in Limbo.

So do what you want
and tell me when you know.
Maybe you think you already said so
but all I heard
was you are in Limbo.

A look that you gave
that felt like a thousand words
a thousand to zero.
Something you said
and didn't think I'd recall
didn't think I would hear you.
I made a note I wrote on the wall
I want to be near you
and felt totally dumb
and not what you want
a thousand to zero.

What I Would Do

The voices in my head that said
you were the only one
they came back
in notes of black
to whisper what I'd done.

The pictures in my mind
I find when I close my eyes
the colors fade
and you're portrayed in only black and white.

Because I think about you,
think about me too.
Write a song and sing along,
that's what I would do.

The words you spoke
fade as smoke
but now they're in my clothes
and my hair and everywhere
your words are in my throat.

Empty prayers
to empty air
but still I must repeat
words of love are not enough
but mean so much to me.

Because I think about you,
think about me too.
Write a song and sing along,
that's what I would do.
Know I think about it,
know I love you still.
If you think about it,
know I always will.

Friday

You can pay up front
or you can run a tab
play it by ear over fourteen beers
and stumble outside for a cab.
Cause this is your youth
or at least it was.
This is what you did when you were 26
this is what you do as adults.

Cold Case

a cop show
character
shared my first name
he was the suspect
but he had been framed
but in the show
he didn't seem to care
if he went away
if it wasn't fair
and then at the end
they figured it out
I wasn't the killer
there was no doubt
but the guy on the show
not happy or sad
some stupid adventure
not good or bad
I turned off the box
and lay on the bed
and thought of adventures
and where they had led
what good they'd done
and then I slept.

Quarter

The trip down the strip
on a Friday night
stray dog sniffing garbage cans.
Fixed his gaze but he lost his sight,
makes his way with his hands.
It made sense to him at some point.
It doesn't anymore.
He wants to make it work
the way it worked before.

A walk by the docks
when the workday's done
the river's pretty by the moon.
And if his soul is what the workday wants
she will have it soon.
He'd like to try again, knowing what he knows
You go around once
I guess that's how it goes.

The trip down the strip
on a Friday night.
I'm always walking home.
Do what you want, you didn't do it right
you're better off alone.