This morning I got up and I lost my head,
I drove to the doctor to check on my leg.
Discussed if I could leave them all blind,
then felt an old feeling that I’d left behind.
This evening I’ll go out and whisper to clouds,
and hope that they listened and tell me out loud.
When I come down and open my eyes
I’ll see fifteen close calls that I have survived.
Something, nothing, it’s all everything.
What else could it be?
Think it’s make believe?
Explain to me how it seems I know I can do anything,
but never get past think without shrinking.
Eventually.
Maybe I’m in a dream.
Tomorrow I’ll get up and out of my bed,
and walk to the mirror to see if I’m dead.
As I realize that I am alive
I’ll feel an old feeling that I’d learned to hide.
This morning is back again, I’m still awake.
I stare at a still sky as it starts to shake.
When I scale up my whole flight of mind,
I see sixteen pasts and all my lived lives.
this is your life chuck johnson 