Fourteen Mornings

[masada]

I wrote this song more recently. It's pretty much a simple song, more so in the folk-ish vain than what else I could imagine it being.

"Fourteen Mornings"

I can only wait on the side of the road so long
Before breathing in the local air and getting used to it
Next time around we'll take roads unmarked
So throw away that old road map and Reader's Digest.

Fourteen mornings ago you drank yourself under
And fell to dreams of Blood Mary over the rocks
Taking a left every chance you get
What a shame, what a shame;

You were on the fringe that night
But somehow we managed
To carry ourselves outside and
To the stones unmarked,

Where we fell to dreams of a virgin married
Behind silk screens;
A dress torn by well-traveled threads
Of fourteen mornings previous.

Just imagine
Where our senses could have led us:
Two strung-out collections of bones
With nowhere to go anyway.
Just wait a fortnight more,
To wake in a new bed.

[LittlePound]

Fourteen mornings ago you drank yourself under
And fell to dreams of Blood Mary over the rocks

...
Where we fell to dreams of a virgin married
Behind silk screens;
A dress torn by well-traveled threads
Of fourteen mornings previous.

I really liked those two parts of the song. I think really the only part that needs work is the
You were on the fringe that night
But somehow we managed
To carry ourselves outside and
To the stones unmarked,

the part in bold seems a little rough.

[ushetra]

Good. I like it a lot.

[masada]

Thanks for the feedback.