we build with straight lines because we want things simple which nature does not
unless we have hope we would never bait a hook and cast out our line
everything seems just a little bit softer in the blue hours
after the first rain of the season; it still feels cold enough to snow
we may be ready but that doesn’t mean that spring is ready for us
from where we stand the pigeon and the moon appear to be the same size
worn out and broken yet still taking the beating that others could not
no matter how grand the achievements of man, we are specks to nature
we need light to see but the light doesn’t let us see what it’s hiding
it’s with mixed feelings that i note the last squeaky snowfall of the year
uptown jack 