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Wishful Thinking Lyrics
into the night
still falls the rain
even the dogs stay home tonight
out on the streets
going nowhere
just one direction in my thoughts
love can be magic
it can be a game
sometimes it's tragic
and sometimes a shame
words were my bullits
emotion my gun
i was a runner
now i'm on the run
sometimes i wish that you were dead
that is because you haunt me so
i wasn't right to let you go away
i try to kill the pain inside
but you are always on my mind
no matter where i go or stay
sometimes i dream my time away
and we're together again
but i know that can never be
and all my hopes are in vain
you were my treasure
that i didn't know
you were the sun in my life
thought i was dying
when i realized
there's just one chance to survive...
Weak dreams Dark corridors of PS 42 Roofs. Rat-throated pigeons Oh time—be merciful Throw me beneath your humanity of cars Feed me to giant gray skyscrapers Exhaust my heart to your bridges I discard my harp, in futility
And that incredibly queer counterman who dished out the food Threw it at you 1-2-3—slammed it Had a languid frank expression—straight in your eyes Like a 1930’s lunch cart heroine And at the steam table itself, labored coolly A junky looking Chinese with an actual stocking in his hair As if they just shanghaied him off the foot of Commercial Street Before the ferry building was up Dreamed it was the 1860 gold rush And on rainy days, you felt they had ships in the back room
I didn’t foresee what you felt And were you prepared? To go where? Like an eye in a black cloud in a dream? Where we kiss and hug America under bed sheets Where there are 25,000 mad comrades All together singing the final stanzas of the Internationale On top of Cold Mountain, the lone moon Lights the whole clear cloudless sky We love this priceless treasure
Gaiser, Kerouac, Ginsberg and Snyder (paraphrased)