Here’s another one, inspired (in spite of all) by a silly night with…

"poets starve children bleed nothing he's got he really needs 
21st century schizoid man" (King Crimson circa 1971)

 written by Unlucky Luke

Here’s another one…comes in without a face or a sound

blown in by wayward winds so high only a child could imagine

it rides nights like midnight ghastly cowboys on open sport cars

pieces of moon

too much too soon

and yet so late

here it comes blonde hair and all…a guitar sound that’s never been heard at all



so clear in my memory

but nothing but a sad face in a faded picture in a cemetery

the hanged man

and still he swings

alone with me

swings and sways on midnight wings with me

telling all the secrets you’d want to know and things you wanted to be

but only a child tonight

under the spell of deep sleep

can understand

the words blown by the wind

and the secrets told by the hanging man

and known by me….

Unlucky Luke



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