Tattoos, Bricks & Bridges

Where the all young dreamers lay,
with the winds that won't tore them apart,
with the storms that won't
blow them away.

Under the bridge, where suburbs screams through the gray,
with no tales for coming home,
with no place 
to runaway.

Fitting right where they belong
dropping shadows on the floor
protesting with their lips, with their core - 
''more, more more..''

Black and white indigenous stones
with a mark on your mark
hidden tattoos 
on my bones.

Inside the sand inside the autumn flakes
we all share what we have,
we all give 
what it takes.

And they stand there innocent and dime
mumbling words, creating thoughts
through darkness eternity cries,
everything fades, fades in time.

Just as where the all young dreamers lay,
with the winds that won't tore them apart,
with the storms that won't
blow them away.