Sleepyhead
pocket full of lead
techno dreams
in your eyes a gleam
dragging feet as you tread
Indie clothes
moth-eaten pantyhose
newspaper fingertips
sunshine yellows
crumpled tardy slips
Remixes
quick fixes
dirty fingernails
hung up on the details
longing for a love lost
wants to meet you
whatever the cost
Abandoned park benches
back alley stenches
trying to gain a name
who are you and
why don't you feel the same?
Moo cow eyes
endless skies
relying on nothing
counting on everything
secret blushes
silver thrushes
find a reason to sing
No gimmicks
No surprises
Just limericks
And sunrises
Hidden treasure
undermeasured
feeling worth it
never foreit
Inches from heaven
but tripped up on hell
seven eleven
under a spell
His good looks
make the record books
I'm through with the past
but the past isn't through
with me
I'll finally see
this has gotta be
the good life
Could this really be
the good life?
Or am I just asleep?
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