All The Noise

By Bruce Clifford

All the noise in a parking lot
The memories are all we’ve got
Each warning sign we once forgot
Pick your nose and enjoy, or not

Mending fences and broken dreams
Flying the sky on broken wings
Breaking down each song she sings
Listening to the voices from rivers and streams

Can we get there from here
Will things ever again seem crystal clear
Can we get there from here
Can we get there from here

Deceptive sounds in an empty space
Endless keepsakes and relentless parades
Facts and figures, a faulty promise made
The leading edge of quiet and rage

Will things ever again seem crystal clear
Is there a way to step away from the fear
Can we get there from here
Can we get there from here

All the noise in a quiet spot
The faded dreams are all we’ve got
We set aside the hope we forgot
All the noise in a parking lot

©8/27/2020 Bruce Clifford