I held a treasure upon the sea
But a treasure had escaped me
The Silver lined cotton in the air
Was it just imagination, or was it there?
Where, where, did it all fly out?
The syllable of a tiny doubt
But a sentence made of three
And my treasure a float to see.
The coral circled my feet around a yard of destined dreams and means of restoration still shrill with all of the past thrill, run the mill, run of the mill – darker skies give me a chill, run the mill, run of the mill, my ship's a hole away from sinking.
This paradise, a pair of dice to gamble, a golden smile and beautiful tongue to speak out
Trade the petty quarrels for pearly whites on emotional ramble, and keeping the skeletons out. I saw the key and left it at the back, I took the dinner plated pavement on the forked road less traveled, and melted away.. The searing tears of melancholy fears earing dearer leers, with good intentions, but the sand left me without a relief. And there I stand with my head in my hands, with well wishes and unsent kisses..