Down Above It AllOh the raven,
How he is black as ink,
But can be as brilliantly bright as
A noonday sun.
You are calling to me from
Your perch amongst the willow grove,
But your call falls on deaf ears.
I am not one to listen to feeble calls,
Become stronger and then, only then,
Oh the raven,
How he is like a frail daisy in the spring rain,
But can suddenly become as strong as the large oak tree,
Towering over the meadow.
You are whispering to me from the perch you keep on my shoulder,
But now after all your tries and fails,
Your calls still do not reach my ears.
I am not one to pay attention to strong voice boxes.
Become as quite as a Sunday morning tea,
And I will be your friend.
Highway Of MishapsRescue me
From my own wrong-doing.
There is mud cluttering my brain,
And leaves clotting my
Untangle myself from this world,
From this most broken state of mind.
You are my only chance,
You, the heartless monster,
The ugly princess,
Will pull me back to reality
With just one kiss.