Every Tunesday I post a boldly imperfect, one-take song draft of a song, (which gets written from the prompt posted the previous Saturday):
Like a coconut climbing a ladder
This cookie gets fatter and fatter
And I’m here begging for crumbs
Like a statue plans with Rand McNally
I’m stuck like a book in an ally
And blind like the blare of a drum
Riding my Hobby Horse forward
Tucked into hospital corners
Hand on the hilt of a war
inside of me
Like a glove that can’t touch it’s own leather
I’ve traded my comfort for bad weather
Dark clouds on the sites of a gun
Like a picasso scrawling on a chalkboard
The stern looks are listing toward starboard
Closing the clasp on the coffin
And this applause is the kiss of a dream
Supposed to eat shit like it’s peaches and cream
timmyr.com 