 |
|
 |
|
Ideas Are Like Stars
Today Joseph is sitting alone,
With occassional nods to the waitress.
She tops off his cup while she's snapping her gum,
Making her rounds on the lunch shift.
And counting out coins, he leaves them arranged,
In neat lines and circles and arcs.
She just stares at the tip that spells out her name,
Ideas are like stars.
And yesterday pedalling down 4th avenue,
Between the stalls and the bookshops.
The sepia tones of a lost afternoon,
Cradled a curio storefront.
And inside the air was thick with the past,
As the dust settled onto his heart.
And here for a moment is every place in the world,
And ideas are like stars.
They fall from the sky, they run round your head,
They litter your sleep as they beckon,
They'd teach you to fly without wires or thread,
They promise, if only you'd let them.
For the language of longing never had words,
So how did you speak from your heart?
Yet here is a box that swears it has heard that,
Ideas are like stars.
Tonight Joseph stood out in the yard,
As Debussy played from the kitchen,
His celestial companions 'til morning's first light,
Shone overhead and he listened.
And who was that shadow there by the gate?
Who was that there standing guard?
It was only loneliness and lonliness waits,
And ideas are like stars,
Ideas are like stars.
|
|
|
 |
|
 |
|
|
|
|
Ideas are like stars.
And ideas are like stars,
It was only loneliness and lonliness waits,
Who was that there standing guard?
And who was that shadow there by the gate?
Shone overhead and he listened.
His celestial companions 'til morning's first light,
As Debussy played from the kitchen,
Tonight Joseph stood out in the yard,
Ideas are like stars.
Yet here is a box that swears it has heard that,
So how did you speak from your heart?
For the language of longing never had words,
They promise, if only you'd let them.
They'd teach you to fly without wires or thread,
They litter your sleep as they beckon,
They fall from the sky, they run round your head,
And ideas are like stars.
And here for a moment is every place in the world,
As the dust settled onto his heart.
And inside the air was thick with the past,
Cradled a curio storefront.
The sepia tones of a lost afternoon,
Between the stalls and the bookshops.
And yesterday pedalling down 4th avenue,
Ideas are like stars.
She just stares at the tip that spells out her name,
In neat lines and circles and arcs.
And counting out coins, he leaves them arranged,
Making her rounds on the lunch shift.
She tops off his cup while she's snapping her gum,
With occassional nods to the waitress.
Today Joseph is sitting alone,
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| IIdeas AAre LLike SStars |
| deas re ike tars |
| dIeas rAe iLke tSars |
| jdeas zre kike ztars |
| jIdeas zAre kLike zStars |
| Ijdeas Azre Lkike Sztars |
|
| 9deas qre oike wtars |
| 9Ideas qAre oLike wStars |
| I9deas Aqre Loike Swtars |
| ldeas sre pike dtars |
| lIdeas sAre pLike dStars |
| Ildeas Asre Lpike Sdtars |
|
| odeas wre Liike etars |
| oIdeas wAre Lke eStars |
| Iodeas Awre Lkie Setars |
| kdeas xre Ljke xtars |
| kIdeas xAre Ljike xStars |
| Ikdeas Axre Lijke Sxtars |
|
| 8deas Arre L9ke atars |
| 8Ideas Ae L9ike aStars |
| I8deas Aer Li9ke Satars |
| udeas Ade Llke Sttars |
| uIdeas Adre Llike Sars |
| Iudeas Arde Lilke Satrs |
|
| Iddeas A4e Loke Sfars |
| Ieas A4re Sftars |
| Iedas Ar4e Lioke Stfars |
| Ixeas Age Lkke S5ars |
| Ixdeas Agre S5tars |
| Idxeas Arge Likke St5ars |
|
| Ieeas Ate L8ke Shars |
| Iedeas Atre L8ike Shtars |
| Ideeas Arte Li8ke Sthars |
| Ifeas A5e Luke Syars |
| Ifdeas A5re Luike Sytars |
| Idfeas Ar5e Liuke Styars |
|
| Ireas Afe S6ars |
| Irdeas Afre Lie S6tars |
| Idreas Arfe Liek St6ars |
| Iceas Aee Lile Sgars |
| Icdeas Aere Sgtars |
| Idceas Aree Likle Stgars |
|
| Iseas Lioe Srars |
| Isdeas Ar Srtars |
| Idseas Are Likoe Strars |
| Ars Lime Staars |
| Idas Arse Limke Strs |
| Idaes Ares Likme Stras |
|
| Idsas Ar3 Lije Stzrs |
| Ar3e Stzars |
| Idesas Are3 Likje Stazrs |
| Id3as Arf Liie Stqrs |
| Id3eas Stqars |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|