Wednesday 17 October 2007

The Other Coast of Skye

(In process)

The day the music died, I was alive.
Ice cream--no American Pie.
Instead, it melted
And stayed there for a while.

The day the music died.
It was a lie.
It was a five hour feat.
But he still arrived asleep.

He was born on the other coast of Skye.
Land of tides that reach
The Northern Lights.


Somewhere in my stomach, there's a meal.
I still have not digested.
Don't know why.

Dad just like the dummy at the Y--
Annie Annie can you hear?
Annie Annie can you breathe?

The vicar sat to help me hold my mind.
But his quiet little words--
My ears never heard.

He's moved on to the other coast of sky
With its nine mile beach.
You can have one seashell each.

Put it to your ear when you cry.
And you will surely hear
Your father very clear.

You wanna view the body one more time?
Couldn't move from my seat.
As they rolled down the sheet.

I'd rather keep his laughter in my mind,
Than say good-bye---What would I feel
If I thought that this was real?

Some days he had so serious a smile
He had to hide what's underneath.
Every breath he had to squeeze.

He's livin' on the other coast of sky.
It's got a nine mile beach.
You can have one seashell each.

Scattered in a garden grown for wine
But the glasses, they don't clink--
Grapes too young to drink.

Frozen in the bed--so late it's light
So loud I couldn't hear my dreams
For all the sighs and the screams.

Still looking for him there so late in life
Sometimes at night, I can see,
But the ladder doesn't reach.

I'll see you on the other coast of sky.
And until then, I 'll try to feel
Like this life is truly real.

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