Pebble Beach

I'd love to cast away these cynical eyes, To allow them to drift away on high tides. To demolish then reconstruct these sacred shrines, To worship then deny these false idols. To set sail for brighter Brighton times, To free ourselves from our shipwrecked lives. Never to moor upon strangers' minds, Never to drown in these crashing tides.

The Doe In The Cornfield

The doe in the cornfield is pure against the darker skies,
The snow covers the fields in a blanket of gorgeous innocence,
The mist hangs over as a shadow of symmetry,

The doe in the cornfield is as powerful as the dawn, as weak as the night and as inspiring as the morn.
The doe is as shocking as a nightmare and tender as a dream

For the scene is forever silent, constantly uncorrupted,
The doe in the cornfield is the mother of life,
The beauty is everlasting in this eternal winter.