from Unreleased. ............................................... . I must say it's provocative.. You tease your tongue across your lips. To catch that drop of wine..
from Unreleased. ............................................... . "Kill your television.". Said the poet on the street. It's just mental anasthesia. And it's putting us to sleep.
There's a time only truth buys. In the early small hours of the morning. When you brushed the sleep from my eyes. And told me stories. Electricity. The day scrapes the sidewalk.
You say you get so haunted by these memories. Well of course there must be plenty. That you'd just as soon forget. Here's a chance to wash away your history.
I like it best when she cries. The tears roll down from her eyes. I take her in my lovin' arms. And I pretend she's mine again. Can't you see. When you mistreat her she runs to me.
I've got time. Walking down this road. Got a mile and a half to go. To see you in the evening. When you take my hand. And lead me down the path to where we go.
This is where the trail just disappears. This is where their story ends. No one knows where they went from here. But I remember when they drank a toast.
from Unreleased. ............................................... . In a boxcar in the moonlight. In the open in the place. You are sleeping on my jacket.
from Unreleased. ............................................... . - words and music by David Wilcox and Cliff Eberhardt. . My fingers tingle. My foot's alseep.
I know that compassion is all out of fashion. And anger is all the rage. Grow up and give in to that cynical spin. That you see on most every page. . We all know what's wrong with the system.
Just one turn to steer your fate. Or wait for fate to spin you. Your trusting's fine but much too blind. Your compass is within you. . These days pass you yearning.
Say goodbye to your twenties, tomorrow is the "Big 3-0". For my birthday present, I've got a place where we can go. It's a lesson in motion to ride the wildest ride.
The top of my head shines through my haircut. Even when I brush, shape and style. Top of my head smiles at the young man. Telling me I must have been alive awhile.
I'm a coke shoe bopper. From New Orleans. I take every kinda drug. That you ever seen. I've eatin' inside, outside. Bring in the twist. I gotta fire my missle.
from Unreleased. ............................................... . The time between the lightning and the thunder,. The time to wait before her fate arrives..
With this tattoo you make a promise. Of who you are and what you think. And this will be your binding contract. Written down in blood and ink. . She had a life to live.
She couldn't sleep. She fired up the engine. 'Cause she had no place to go. . She likes the window open. And she's listening to the road. Just a whisper.
from Turning Point. ............................................... . (Spoken). In the deep of the darkest night. There's a beacon of yellow light. . (singing).
The Terminal Tavern. By David Wilcox. Ah, what a beautiful place.. It is so lush and quiet in these walls.. It's a place where the sound really stands a chance of finding its way..
He said his prayers in the barroom. Whisky was his holy wine. And the bar became an alter. His friends were angels in the their time. His hand was steady on the glass.