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Man Under The Glass

13 Feb

the hallway’s bright and sterile gray
I wander round in secrecy
I’m wary as you stare me down
I can feel you dissecting me

you say nothing as I sweat
but what you think, I know too well
that I was wrong to venture out
and should have just stayed in my hell

I’ve tried to drink you all away but no escape is found within
your eyes grow larger as I die trapped by the bottle I am in
and oh I know it’s true this too shall pass
with each one of us a man under the glass
and me I see no cause for laws of class
and still I am a man under the glass,
I’m still a man under the glass

and nervously I touch my hair
or rub the bottom of my chin
my thoughts and fears are magnified
as you can see through my thin skin

do I look funny when I walk
it’s my suspicion that I do
and I’ve observed your sad defects
but I don’t point them out in you

you’ve quite a tendency to cut
for every man there are his flaws
though you’re a bird who has no wings
I can still compliment your claws

April 2, 1992 ©1992-2010 brent david fraser, all rights reserved

Gorgeous

27 Jan

Under the pain, under the sorrow of the rain

Wed to the wind, trying to get in to my life of grace

How to be whole, how to be open to it all and

Never turn the eyes

Hey, I’m out of my head

I’m prettier in bed

I used to be happy

I love the cold time

It’s prettier in rhyme

And I know I’ll be gorgeous when I’m dead

Hey I want it all, I want the laughter and my golden ring

It’s never too late, they say, to battle it out with freedom and fate

Truer than I, is that I will die and beyond the play

Is just a reprieve

Coming up from the bottom

Coming up from the bottom

This one is only going to make my lie high

November 2000 ©2000-2010 brent david fraser, all rights reserved

The Down Clown

27 Jan

I never liked the role of pained and pitied artist much at all

But how I thought it would make me

I always played it well and God shot moments came when I would call

But oh so fucking fleeting

The down clown, poet, knave

Cool, aloof, dreaming slave

Outsider looking in, the high, the grave,

Don’t know where to begin

I drank my bottles with the the bums on 21st, I died of thirst

For it was never my truth

I took the stabs, my soul would bleed, and I believed that I was cursed

The young always waste their youth

The down clown, poet, knave

Cool, aloof, dreaming slave

Outsider looking in, the high, the grave,

Don’t know where to begin

January 2001 ©2001-2010 brent david fraser, all rights reserved

My Real Life To Begin

27 Jan

I’ve been through my own hell and know that pieces of it live in me

I’ve been loved and hated, blessed and berated, and now I can see

I’m on this long road and cant know when the end will come, or the fixes

I’ll find my self in…

and I’m waiting for my real life to begin

I’ve found peace with my defects and struggles and still have them daily

I’m no better or worse than the strangers I meet in the thunderous melee

I’m on this ship that will sink or go on and the wind bites the sails with a

clamorus din…

and I’m waiting for my real life to begin

8/30/03 ©2003-2010 brent david fraser, all rights reserved

Blindman

10 Jan

Blind man stumble, get your cane

the obstacles ahead

are like the real to one insane

or birth to all the dead

meet the foe upon the ridge

and set your weapons down

bring your lies and build a bridge

and walk the length to bloody this mans crown

moon of mayhem shine its light

on cowardice in vain

blind man willing wins the fight

and ends the sober rain

being lost of soul and mind

the defeated foe remains

collecting wounds to never find

release from all his pains

crying fire, crying rain

crying people and their laughter filled with pain

I don’t know a better day or a better time

or a better gift when all these visions would be mine,

I don’t know

March 25, 1987 Copyright 1987-2010, brent david fraser, all rights reserved

Whisky Song

10 Jan

stopped by the old joint, two minutes past

the last day I would smell that smoky air

Turkey Joe and Old Dog Bones were sipping on the last

of all the whiskey those old dudes could bear

I pull up a piece of the bar, grab a glass, talking about life

I stumble out the door, come the after hours

boy it ain’t easy trying not to be so sleazy

and this life may not be the best life, but it’s ours

whisky’s a thing that a man can’t quit

whisky’s a way to ease on the night

whisky’s giving me a craving fit

whisky’s a thing that this man can’t fight

I try to play a pool game, but I can never see the balls

while discovering that my boots could use new soles

Turkey Joe protects me from the drunks who want to brawl

and I remember that my boots are getting old

I’m quitting tomorrow, man I’m through for sure

I’ve got to give up whisky and that is that

and I could fight that good fight and try to be pure

but tomorrow old bones he knows I’ll be back

July 19, 1986 Copyright 1986-2010, brent david fraser, all rights reserved

Jody May

10 Jan

Another lesson just the other day when the circus came to town

I sat and watched all the people with my little Jody May, she was staring at the ground

All the rides and all the fun and she couldn’t ride on a single one

When that circus came to town

Night fell before she asked if we could go

How long she’ll live in sorrow no one knows

All she wants to do is run and play

But how long until she walks, no one can say

She asked to go the very next day when the circus came to town

The longing look on her little face and she started to shut down

All the rides and all the fun and she cried as she watched everyone

When that circus came to town

She knows next year the circus is going to come back to town

I know she’ll want to go, without a doubt, so we’ll go and hang around

All the rides and all the fun but will the dirty work still be sadly done,

Will she make a joyful sound

When the night falls will she ask if we can go

Will I ever come to ease the pain she knows

All she wants to do is run and play

She may never walk the doctors said today

And the circus comes to town

And Jody May still cries when they shut down

July 10, 1986 Copyright 1986-2010, brent david fraser, all rights reserved

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