My book is open.
Have a look, don’t get lost.
My book’s wide open.
Come on in, figure me out.
Flecks of frustration scatter beneath patience.
We were never finally figured out.
Something steeps inside,
Intention’s not to hide it.
My book is open.
Thirty-two pages, you’re lost.
I’m all so open.
Come on in, find your way out.
Decades decayed and nobody knew what was happening.
Lost, perfection and somehow mistaken.
Something about our past
Directs the way we act.
What went on and what is happening?
These moments seem to last for me.
Figure me out.
Come on in.
Find your way out
And bring me along.
this is your life chuck johnson 