Somewhere in Sunset Beach

A man walking lonely on a dark pathway,
Along an even darker ocean.
The land around here does little to protect its own,
But does anywhere?
The water so black, except for what you can see around the piers.
The radio plays on with songs that seem to fit the mood, the drive, the time.
It's hard to describe the peace that's found,
While driving in a car with millions of little parts in it,
All fighting for each other at 100 miles per hour.
So, I'll just say that the peace found was new,
Exciting!
Wondrous!
And every other calming word that can be used to describe a night beach drive...

It was a different world, wasn't it?

A yard full of wonder and a wall that was amazing.
I grew up in the land of Camelot
And my friends did too.
I could observe the countryside from wherever I stood,
And never did I fear what was to come ahead.

An exhibiting imagination.
The world was what we wanted it to be.
But inhibiting education,
Only ended our dreams.

I'll always have memory of where I grew up.
Around 3 years old,
Sesame Street,
And 1970's New York.
City.
A colorful time,
When puppets called Muppets reigned,
And not everything had to educate.

Lone

There's something so somber about open roads and early mornings.
Your only friends are the cars that speed past you
And the shining reflectors stuck to the pavement.
The same songs play on the radio,
The lights in the distance never get any closer.

"It's not a good life, the life of a trucker," they say.
But life is life, and their way is the highway, the long way, the hard way.
Who are we to say how they must live?
I can't.
No one can.

"The Tide is High on 14th Street"

What is this? A summer time of epic proportions?
Oh, I laugh to hear this.
We were so free. When we swung our fists to a slow beat.
The rhythm found in our hearts. You did not believe me then.
Some early 2000 year, a guitar in one hand, imagination in the other.
If only we could recreate the magic that was inspired.
If only we could show the world what we’re really made of.
If only we could have had the right tools.
If only we weren’t so afraid.
If only I wasn’t so afraid,
The world could know what we’re made of.

The Sword in the Stone

There's something you're trying to tell us,
Something you're trying to convey.
The sun is dying at the end of May
And we have only cold in our futures.
Where could we be headed?
To some far away land?
Of 3D clouds and castles alike.
Hidden among endless forests of trees
And rain.

Perhaps we should run away behind the walls of the city.
There is something about this place.
The trees stand so tall,
The mountain and fog, along with the smell of pine,
So abundant.
There are hidden houses and gardens back here.
I would like to live here,
Behind these city walls.

Something of Ann Arbor,
Tied in with the air of the Kingdom.
There is little peace where I come from,
But there is no peace without knowledge,
And right now I cannot read you.
Your message is not clear,
But it's beautiful.