NO MORE w/Jeff Prince dba GHOST OF JOHN MURPHY

No more sin or sorrow foolish fancy to a fault
No more dirth upon the land that withers under the assault
No more Babylon behavior bobbing up and down and up
until we drown away each memory scattered from a shattered cup. No more crying for forgiveness whether warranted or
not. No more facing a Goliath when you haven’t got a rock
No more wilderness or mountain when you walk a fated mile
in a tattered pair of sneakers you found drifting on the Nile

The Land of No More. No More

No more prodigal returning from a place you can’t recall
No more crown of disappointment round your picture on the wall. No more police car, radar, with a lantern for an eye
Saying, “Raise your leg and touch your nose or kiss your ass goodbye.”
No More. No More.

No more life or death to stink our breath or cast away the stone
No more melancholy meditations muttered on the phone
No more chipping at the boulder with the wisdom of a tooth
While you’re second guessing everything you know to be the truth
No More. No More.

No rekindled anger intercepting every thot
No self-righteous indignation when the losing battle’s fought
No eternal indecision bobbing up and down and up
til we drown away each memory scattered from a shattered cup

The door with hinges torn is clapping in the storm
Fireflies and horny toads are someplace I would like to go

Forget every note. The song nobody wrote. Nobody wrote

(Jeff speaks in tongues.)

No more coveting the woman that you couldn’t live without
No more words that go unspoken when the thing to do is shout
No more disregarded expectations piling by the door
In a rat-infested condo with a mattress for a floor
No More. No More.

© 2014 Royal T Music