STAFF SPOTLIGHT: Burden of a Day – Pilots & Paper Planes
As the shots rang out on the motorcade
As the shots rang out on the motorcade
Join the multitudes.
Come back to life before my telephone rings
She sits up high, surrounded by the sun.
Thoughts not worth their salt, gold in the womb
The time lays waste to ashes, my soul lays waste the broken mind.
Looking across the universal hallway
Maybe that house again, maybe the city by the lake.
Where better is the enemy of good enough.