Late Night Songs.

the termites ate through our bed, and tore down the roof over our heads
i made the woodwork with my hands, scattered sawdust across the lands
and than i begged you to "never leave without me"
i told her once i told her twice, maybe half a dozen times,
but never found the courage of the words to ever speak them
dusted off the old piano, covered with a lifetimes scatter
of happy and tired memories in every note
i know that i take far to many pictures, spare me with your convictions
you know i can't remember, anything without them
we watched the sunset on the shores
stumbled through the deepest forests
and than found ourselves in the tunnel on the end
but you can wipe away my words,
they're nothing more than crayon

i just like the way they smell
have you ever wanted to paint the sky
and what other color, than what it already is
is a philosopher really all that smart?
or does he just figure how to say, clever things in different ways
i have two giant tacky mugs, neither which i have dranken from,
my great grandfather gave me a jar of pennies,
and i never got to meet him, am i supposed to spend it?
i've always wanted to ride a ferry boat, or at the very least dig my own moat
i'd have a castle made of lead, a bunch of abe lincolns heads
maybe thats what i'll do with all the change.
it always bothered me that i wanted my room a different blue

but my mother insisited it would be a darker hue

did i win or lose in the end?