Stolen Poems Lyrics

Stolen Poems

Now that the evening has been littered with deception

And you've stolen all the poetry from my mind

Now that the tourist has no sense of his direction

And the clocks inside his heart no longer wind

Is there anything else that sends a knife into my being

Like the way you touch the wrong sides of my soul?

Well, it's looking to me like looking at the sights that I've been seeing

Has made me half the man I was when I was whole.

The morning burns the fog off of my brain, diseased and swollen

I find that the stories aren't worth telling and the poetry's been stolen.

Don't ask me what did you write last night?

Because the poetry's been stolen

It's a long long way back yesterday

When the Gods angels started bowling

Was it true romance or just a circumstance?

When the neon dice were rolling

It's a terrible crime the way the words don't rhyme

And the poetry's been stolen

When the whisper of the windy western webs of recollection

Start blowing through the forest without sound

When the holiness that helped to hurry one more resurrection

Falls like snow upon the tired October ground

Is there any love that takes away the questions of the past

And answers each and every Monday morning prayer?

I bet it all and I won it back and I prayed that it would last

When I found out that I don't really care

Now the evening sends a shiver through my spine and eats a hole in

All the stories that aren't worth telling

And all the poetry that's been stolen

So don't ask me what did you write last night?

Because the poetry's been stolen

It's a long long way back yesterday

When the Gods angels started bowling

Was it true romance or just a circumstance?

When the neon dice were rolling

It's a terrible crime the way the words don't rhyme

When the poetry's been stolen

Hey go make a mistake baby jump in a lake

You know the one I drilled a hole in

What you gonna do when the rent comes due

And the poetry's been stolen

It's a long long way into yesterday

Back when the neon dice were rolling

But the stories aren't worth telling

And the poetry's been stolen