I think the cards are left on the table
the art still hangs in the hall
is this love
or not at all
thees curled fingures tell a story
when wraped up in yours
this face still holds the vally of a smile
know just what miles
have come and gone
the days so short
the days so long
still so much left
not said on my tounge
spoken in a verse
this table stilled and paused
each glass bears witness to the life,
to the falls
especially when we want to forget it all
to move on
to think we hate
hate it all
is this love
or not at all
I search the lines of light
between the eyes of night
and the moments of day
the dew drops
from a shaky hands face
just which hour holds this memories place,
pehaps we can forget the wounds
we can put this pain away
lock it in an attic
for it to stay
like the gun that provided thoughts of death
now to reconsider what is left
wash your face
take a breath
hold me close
is this love or not
not at all
as this world becomes unknown
the vally of what was a smile
broken and denies
that i would ever cry
as the father, the life
brings a subtle death
to a once, now bitter, sweet taste
we press play
the actions on the table
roll your dice
hold me close
im back from the attic
lets pack
and forget about the moment
i'll be fine
i'll be fine
roll your dice
and tell me slow
is this love
because i really dont know.