BRUNK HOWARD


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free floating

Tons of free balloons

Wanting to float somewhere.

Are kept through their strings

From going anywhere

By the hands of children

Already told

That practice makes perfect

When you’re searching for gold.


The time to commit

Starts younger than you’d think.

They take all the play

And pour it down the sink.

They take all the hope

And push it to the brink

And watch it slide down

The slippery slope that links

The future to the present,

And the present to the past.

Hold tight darling

It’s the last dance.


Always seems

After you got the door unlatched

No matter how far you go

There’s always strings attached.


You stand below the ledge

Look up at her light

She looks down saying

I’ll hold you tight.

You climb to the top

Where there’s lots of long hair

But even when you hold her

There’s nobody there.


Height gives you distance

You see the whole sky

But you only see the ghost

Of a balloon floating by.

We plan for a future

That's built on our past

But with the present interfering

The future can’t last.

Hold tight darling

It’s the last dance.


Always seems

After you got the door unlatched

No matter how far you go

There’s always strings attached.


Everybody’s stuck

On what is and what was

What can be just seems

To get left in the dust.

Like Lady Macbeth

Who couldn’t sleep

Our dreams are something

We can’t keep.

Sweet dreaming of eating

A five pound marshmallow

Wake up to find

You’ve eaten your pillow.


We bury the past.

We dig the hole deep.

The future’s far off

And the present’s not for keeps.

My life’s wounded

Got a broken past.

Hold tight darling

It’s the last dance.


Always seems

After you got the door unlatched

No matter how far you go

There’s always strings attached.


Love knocked on the door

Looking for its twin.

Voice said right address

But there's no room at this inn.

Went on to the next.

They let it in,

Only to find

Its fraternal twin.

To find identical

Is no easy task

Identity is even harder to find

‘Cause it don’t last.

The future looks promising

The present makes us think

But a past of broken promises

Makes it sink.

What happened to Samson

When he pulled on chains to the past?

Hold tight darling

It’s the last dance.


Always seems

After you got the door unlatched

No matter how far you go

There’s always strings attached.