The Escapist - The Streets

All these walls were never — really there

Nor the ceiling, or the chair

I’m eking weeks of peace at the beach

I see the breezes weave the trees

These walls you’ll find are yours and mine

Defined not by them I

I’m in times that lie behind my eyelids

The sunset still the rising silence

I’m not full of fear cause I’m not really here

I’m nowhere near here

There’s no rain on roof that grates and beats me

My favorite tree breaking light to pieces

Sprinkling, sharded light on me

Throw a stone as high as you can

And hearing with hand not hear it land

Nothing taxing dusting sand

My window world spins and twirls

The walls then fall, I recall the sort

White clouds white wash faded spotless

The weighty shadows, ranges of rocks

The cold is all illusion thought up

Stroll on the shore, snooze and explore

All possibilities in each new morning

'Til satisfied reaching out, yawning

Fish in a big dish, some rice and spice

Salt over shoulder, never salted so tight

The truth I have told was silence sometimes

But who’s soul does not hide any crimes?

Wrapped in walls, encircled by work

The walls fall, the story occurs:

No barrier, no boundary or 'low us ID’s

The freedom to stay or stray

Be fiend or friend cause no harm but charm

The peaceful end

I’m not full of fear cause I’m not really here

I’m nowhere near here

I’m not full of fear cause I’m not really here

I’m nowhere near here

Pale ancient woods, strew white sandy bays

This ugly room pales away today

I’m swimming in the ocean, I sink slow motion

Fingers, toes, floating

Every year 'til yesterday

I see the eternal setting sea

I compare all this to me

It’s all fleeting momentary me

I blink my eyes, this is reminding me

Life lies in the blink of an eye

The old die for reasons, new tides, four seasons

New life born is like teasing

All these walls were really never there

Nor the ceiling or the chair

I’m eking weeks of peace at the beach

I see the breezes weave the trees

I am not here at all, you are dearly fooled

I see bristling trees, the shush at the sea

Mischievous, fluttering seagulls

No, I’m not trapped in a box, so I am glancing at rocks

I’m dancing off docks, since this stance began that’s where I am

I’m not full of fear cause I’m not really here

I’m nowhere near here

I’m not full of fear cause I’m not really here

I’m nowhere near here

So done