Summer
I swear to the summer-
I am a well-aged drummer...
Like liver and pee's,
like grease on the tree's,
like sweet tarts and tea.
I swear to the summer-
I am a well-aged drummer...
Like listeners without runners,
like dangerous men without gunners-
don't be naked just be funner,
don't be jaded just act like your comin',
I swear to the summer-
I need no real number,
I swear to your comin'-
I love the leader and all the wanderer,
and the fisherman,
and the ponderer,
and the drinker,
and the blunderer.
I swear to the summer,
I am a well aged drummer,
I can take away your lumber,
and burn it like a hunter-
I can turn it into something,
that I saw in the light of the reflection,
I can see you dance well in the mist,
of nature's best kiss,
and resist when you need the fist,
and reminisce,
even though I am just a man,
and I have never felt the mix.
Like a tall building that hasn't been built yet,
like an animal that hasn't been born yet,
like man with his child,
like women with her mild-
life has a style,
you have it
and you fill,
in the mind-
and the child...
Just to say it again
you have been the smile,
and your love makes me wild-
and your hugs hold for miles,
and your fun takes the pile,
and even though you're gone now I can stay for a while,
and sway in the reef when the tide lifts me,
and feel the knees when I become weak,
and be too much when too much hits me-
and sleep when god reads me...
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