Christopher Wilson
Christopher Wilson




one corridor

leading towards that plain

that runs the middle

that hides the shame

the stale of the stare

bringing on the bare

barely consoled


the express of tone

marking the beat of mind

wonder of how many feel the beat

the beat left behind

the ones so tepid

so false

one true foregoes


that's much too little

a little too much 

much too little to say

the scatter here for shatter there

a little too much to pay

one face you see

one face you make

one face really

are you really there

that face you see

that face you make 

is it really...really fair


closer to a fright than a thrill

not much difference but the distance held

holding a character

that is what you call me

keeps them lugging

keeps them tugging



(Words and music by Christopher Wilson; copyright 2006 Christopher Wilsongs, ASCAP. All rights reserved)