knock knock knocking
on heavens door
more than reminiscent of the poem
i wrote to you lord
and every song to follow
spoke to the depths of my soul
something deep inside
something ethereal
am i, still knocking?
or is there something blocking
that door? Lord,
if for one moment in time
I could feel the way I felt
on that bus, all those years ago
It would be so much easier
to throw it all away
Lord when he finished
after so much time passed
I went up to him and handed him a fiver
and I told him he played a great set
(other people, they just left)
he looked into my eyes and I knew that
he knew what I meant when I said
that he played a great set.
With a smile and a thank you,
I said see you around
and turned away
-a bit too fast-
(always hasty)
