Monday, September 3, 2012


Keep filling up my head
When I try to go to bed
These Words
Keep flooding up my mind
But the right ones I can’t find
Invading on my time
Forced to try to make them rhyme

I cannot stop to rest
Until I find the very best
The perfect Words
To sound sincere
And at the same time cavalier
Bombard me from all sides
Between the lines somewhere I’ve lied

The weapon of my choice
Feel the pain as I rejoice
To tell you how I feel
Or sometimes just to make a meal
To sharpen the attack
Unable to take them back

In the end
They’re just Words

© 2006 O’Connor Bros. All rights reserved.
© 2012 Michael P. O’Connor. All rights reserved.

1 comment:

  1. This was written as a therapeutic release in order to go back to sleep. (The WORDS demanded it - and at 4AM I rarely argue.) I actually banged this out while I simultaneously capitulated to the impulses that commanded me to rise every 5 minutes between 2-4AM to write a different song, so this was more of a lark - written in response to my frustration and desire to get to sleep.