September 01, 2004
I'll hear of you; the fame the fableTo all of which you are more than able
The precision of your hand
The knowledge you command
The weary work of longer hours
The dreary frown you somehow cover
I'll hear of you; the questions of your present state
"How's he doing, how's he been and why's he late?"
The slight of life they cannot see
The grip we call our destiny
The latter half or the better part
The days we claim a brand new start
I'll hear of you; whether you're here or there
Out of range or locked deep within my sweeping stare
The feelings of which I cannot approach
The exacting words upon which I choke
The understanding combined with frustrated fear
The curses beneath my breath or of my exhalting cheer
I'll hear of you; despite the clammer, above the rise
I'll never relinquish the beauty of one last compromise
The tender thoughts all spoken in vain
The end result that stays the same
The dreams undressed and how you wish of more
The mesmorizing thought that I've heard it all before
I'll hear of you; when I wander, where I'll be
I'll hold on tight, to all of you, tucked away inside of me...