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Post by morningstar on May 7, 2010 20:59:03 GMT -5
More of a song...but here it is...
Candace was a beauty by the time she turned nineteen - The very same year her father opted out of this life's scene.
Everything that had mattered lost it's vibrance and it's hue - Leaving her to wonder, what in this World was really true.
No one could have imagined all the pain that was held inside - that green eyed, lanky lady with the "take no prisoners" stride.
She left her dreams in the graveyard dust and journeyed down the lost highway - To take up with a man in a rock and roll band who had never been 'taught' to play.
The years rolled by like the changing sky - while the pain inside her grew - Until the void of loneliness was all she really knew.
Does anyone know where the love of God goes in the hours from dusk to dawn - When the ghost of your own conscience plays you like a two bit Con.
If you can find the answers while you cross that Desert alone - You'll realize the illusion in what's wrought of flesh and bone...
find it written in the stone...
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Post by George the 3rd on May 10, 2010 8:51:16 GMT -5
Well done! Interesting contrast with "Day of the Angel".
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Post by morningstar on May 10, 2010 18:34:02 GMT -5
Thanks George... Yes...now that you mention it - it is rather a 'contrast', isn't it? Such is life, I guess...
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Post by George the 3rd on May 11, 2010 8:41:27 GMT -5
vive la différence!
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