Week 18 - Pockets

from by Ardie Collins

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lyrics

I heard a voice from the other side, it was sweet and snide
And it tried to comfort me, tried to send me off to sea
But there's that sound of the violin, how the friction sings
Of a home that never was, of a distant "just because"

You wait on your toes, "not yet," was all that you said,
Stretched you neck 'round the bend, held your stance like a friend
Am I keeping you up? Just nod, I'm an affable sod,
I can laugh if they want, maybe that's all that they want

They sat inhaling the setting sun, bit their jealous tongues
The way it only tries to be exactly all that it can be
But I arrive like a slow parade, pockets deep as graves
At present, tense is how I feel, is there a glance that I can steal

You wait on your toes...

credits

from Cooper52, released December 28, 2014

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about

Ardie Collins Cardiff, UK

I'm some kind of a songwriter from Cardiff.

In 2011 I released a song a day. In 2014 I released a song a week. I haven't been up to much since.

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