Quixotic
Sometimes i wanna dust the piano
other days i just wanna play
somedays i wanna bring home the bacon
other days i wanna burn it away
sometimes i lust for that limelight
and other times i just wanna stay
in a home of creation and comfort
cross breezes circadian day
how could i
how can i
contain these multitudes
like a prism in my pocket
quixotic in fixed latitudes
sometimes i think
do you want me to do this
or is there some other way
i should be serving mankind
the black and white
is a shimmering gray
sometimes i think
is anyone listening
to the songs that seep from the shell
in my heart i carry this with me
my love for the song is an endless well