Missing An Old Friend
That log is starting to grow grasses
The full moon has grown lonely
That orchestra of crickets and frogs has gone rusty
The abandoned evenings shrine of old friends
THE ROAD HOME
Be gone for a day, Be gone forever, The road home never forgets. She is sometimes beautiful, and sometimes ugly And sometimes she is both Depending on the memories she holds She changes her shade like a chameleon She is fair with her scores In both our wins and losses Like the sun shines on all irrespective Turn in her direction The nostalgia will pour in Like the intoxication of a cheap strong rum The road back home Is the only road that leads us back to our thoughts
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