I love music but can’t sing or play a note, but as I’ve sometimes said a rhythm or melody worms it’s way inside my head asking for some lyrics, so from time to time I attempt to write some lyrics, for better or worse…
Scratch armed bandit
Collecting junk at night
Trying to find a balance
Get himself feelin’ right
Running with his best friend
Baby girl in flight
Shooting powdered milk
In the darkness of the light
Shadow children
Shadow chill-ill-dren
If they live into their forties, they’ll be residing in a box
Hand in hand while tripping over the shadows of the rocks
Remembering the good times
Making money pulling cocks
Never see the brightness when you’re a shadow in the rocks
Beat up little urchin
Sneaking out the back
Satisfied Uncle Aaron
Still moaning in her sack
Never got invited
Still, he has a knack
Of using teenage sweeties
Afraid to tell the facts
Meets her superhero
Captain America on crack
Both sinking down the drain
Victims of the smack
They don’t need food or money
It’s life that really lacks
Shadow children
Shadow chill ill dren
If they live into their forties, they’ll be residing in a box
Hand in hand while tripping over the shadows of the rocks
Remembering the good times
Making money pulling cocks
Never see the brightness when you’re a shadow in the rocks
Sick of being tired and tired of being sick
Worshiping a dime bag turn another trick
If they make to their 40’s, they’ll be living in a box
Begging for a morsel as shadows of the rocks
From the bottom of the rocks
The wretched lonely rocks
Shadows of the alley smashing the bottom of the docks
Runaways forever shadows of the rocks
Everybody hates him
Wants to see him harmed
He needs to take his handgun
Just to stick it in his arm
A little girl abandoned searching for a friend
No one sees’s a child no one raises an alarm
She’s just a geisha of the poppy
Hiding from the storm
Hopes to be a grandma
But her life won’t last that long
Shadow children
Shadow chill ill dren
If they live into their forties, they’ll be residing in a box
Hand in hand while tripping over the shadows of the rocks
Remembering the good times
Making money pulling cocks
Never see the brightness when you’re a shadow of the rocks
Sick of being tired and tired of being sick
Worshiping a dime bag turn another trick
If they make to their 40’s, they’ll be living in a box
Begging for a morsel as shadows of the rocks
From the bottom of the rocks
The wretched lonely rocks
Shadows of the alley smashing the bottom of the docks
Runaways forever shadows of the rocks