Wood Guitar

Here we are, a final moment

found inside a wood guitar

That splits the seams wide open

Oh Oh

‘cause I know who you are

You paint the doors and walls

and listen for the bell-chime calls

And life is nothing more at all than

tea-cup drips and bouncing balls

And Oh

It's real, and never fading

Listen to the strings you've strung

and all the words you're saying now

Sing a song, a song with feeling

that sounds best when you've hit the bong

and concludes deeper meaning

Oh Oh

‘cause I know sometimes

All the thoughts can sometimes hit

Confusion as the record skips

But who needs fools to think you‘re hip

When all the world is full of ****

And Oh

I hear the timbres you're playing

It sits inside the summer sky

It's softly cascading