#1
They say the moon is silver,
They say the sun is made of gold
And that there is a diamond in our hearts
That keeps us from growing old.
But there are monsters in my closet
There are wolves at my door
I get a head full of bad weather
When the world is at war.

So when a cold wind blows
I chart my course through the stars
I'm heading to be where you are
There'll be no right or wrongs
You'll only ask for a song
I'll travel light "just my suitcase and guitar"

Far from those lonely lights in loft windows
And all those weeping willow trees
And all those civil war songs
And those salvation dreams
Well I'm going back to Rose-Marie.
I said I am going back to Rose-Marie
I am heading for the blue of the sea
She found the future in her tea leaves
And she lets me play the thief
So I'm going back to Rose Marie.

I heard they have hung men for less
On the outskirts of town
Some judge's hammer fell down
Then a lightening bolt spilt the ground.
But Rose-Marie just smiles
Dancing on those tables in my mind
She don't care if I get scared
Because it's such a long way down.

With no maps or math
I'll cross a line through my name
I'm going to ride upfront with all of my mistakes
Down the long highway
To the horizon line;
Reality is just a day dream away.

Far from those lonely lights in loft windows
And all those weeping willow trees
All that cold metal death
Like a sheet glass timpani
I'm going back to Rose-Marie
I said I'm going back to Rose-Marie
I'm heading way down to New Orleans
I'm going to get my hair clean
I'm going to know what pleasure means
When I get home to Rose-Marie.

You should find someone new and hold her tight
Take her dancing next tuesday night
You could try to fall in love
You never know, you might...
But we all know you'll be sleeping
At Rose-Marie's tonight.

Far from those lonely lights in loft windows
And all those weeping willow trees
And all those late night smokes
And all that praying on your knees
I'm going back to Rose-Marie.
I said I'm going back to Rose-Marie
I'm tired of all this rust and whiskey
She'll turn the four winds to a breeze
She'll wipe off the dust from me
When I get home to Rose-Marie.

With my tarot card uncertainty
And a 9 carat locket for a memory
Yeah I'm going back to Rose-Marie.
#2
It is nice to see you post again James, even though people seem not to care about your writing here; which, to be honest, is their loss. Anyway, about the piece itself, it read very much like a song; the imagery in the piece is very well done. There were parts I didn't particularly like, that felt a bit bland. Lines such as "Dancing on those tables in my mind", "All that cold metal death" and "And all those weeping willow trees" didn't really add to the piece. But overall this was an enjoyable piece that would do well as the lyrics of a song.

Take care.
#3
Thanks fred, it is very much a song...I've kind of gone down that avenue now more than poems or prose just because I play around town a lot again. It's a very traditional styled song so weeping willow trees, suitcase/guitar, rose-marie are all tips of a cap to old carter family/guthrie/hankwilliams sr songs and ye olde ballads, I was listening to at the time. I guess it loses a lot in translation as it is supposed to be sung and not read but ahh well I just drop them in.