Onward VI

I still feel sacriligeous when I change the lyrics to a great song, but I cannae seem to help myself. If I cannae sing from my strictly personal heart, I'm okay leaving the greats in the musuem where I know where to find them when the mood strikes. Can we still slide nickels in the juke box? If juke boxes still exist, a nickel prolly won't buy you a whole song any more.

I'm still hammering the music theory of Warren Zevon's song, "Keep Me In Your Heart." I haven't changed much more than the pronouns of a dying soul asking to be remembered to a grieving soul promising to remember. So far, I still cannae think of my youngest son without tears. but I hope to think of him and smile one day. I believe to the depths of my being that his embracing, punacious humor wants that. Works in progress. . .

I will hold you in my thoughts

I will take you to my dreams

I will touch you when you come into view

When the winter comes

I will keep the fires lit

And feel you right next to me ~Warren Zevon (modified)