Rose Tinted Glasses

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A song written around emotional isolation, stress and shared disillusion. My Father is an Undertaker and I am from London which should clear up one or two of these lines. I'm writing this for the people that are pushing themselves in the right direction and speaking up for themselves when they feel strongly about something.

Submitted: October 25, 2013

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Submitted: October 25, 2013



These streets aren’t paved with gold anymore

I could tell you all one hundred times.

It wouldn’t make a change.


If I fetch a pale of water

For Jill at the bottom of the hill,

Will I get my reward?

A golden star and some love.


Bread pops, from the heat cave

Static, from a warm wave

Steel, formed in cool ways.

How times have changed.


I never wanted to return home,

After all these years

The time has come.

The time has come.


Never let the story

Speak louder than the paint

I suppose this leads to change…

Needs to change


Do what we will

Do what we must

In the end we turn to dust

Ask my Father about it…


Pay my dues

cut me loose 

from this game of duck duck goose. 


Little time, little life

Little bitter lemon rind

Not enough.

© Copyright 2019 Jack Angus Golightly . All rights reserved.

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