Do you ever sit, and [simply] stare?
Thinking, Dreaming, Waiting?
Because I do.
I sit and [simply] stare outside these four walls
Thinking, Dreaming, Waiting.
I wait for the simple essence made of magic
To [simply] pull the trigger so that I can see the world
Through a simple mind.
I'd rather be lost that stagnant beneath ceilings.
Alternative choices: Both made and unmade
Like a child's bed
Where I remember staring quite [simply] at the certain future
While I remained still.
I am looking...
Though I am looking to become lost
(Because found is boring)
All I hear is ringing and monotony of dinging:
[Simply] Money making, bill paying, anticipating...
Hammers and Strings
And things made of Ivory
Those are the simple things
That keep an artist breathing.
To live is to create:
Simple and complex things.
But time is money, and I hear the cash drawer dinging.
It's [simply] not simple
To hear melodies inside your head
When the ceiling holds your hand and tells you it's better off this way.
It's simple, really.