By Rickey Mattos and Stephen Opedal
they were counting their shielding  starting for the trail  staking lives making lives trade lives and ail  fighting in corners they fought loosing instead  too cool for the boiler man screaming off with his head  mr. blister  his infantry guarded but frail  fantasized being king  doubted he'd fail  it’s the battle of oil to his subjects he said but was really a lady's love he fought for instead  the bishnueice of opec now stifling his sound caused the wounding of blister's pawn just at sundown  terror of cavalries started the scare as flying red armaments streaked into air  the yellow rose princess now stooped in her chair  searing swats scraping her lair  extending her finger in flagrant despair with blasphemous concubines’ corporate affairs  the boiler man's ringing the ruins charade  mr. blister croons dashingly  pulsing his pain  the bishnueice plucking parasites theatrical parade  the yellow rose princess reeking disdain  in an instant the malady phony it sighed with visionary militants starting to cry


Revelations

flying  rise and speak of leaves  individuals together sharing secret thoughts and emotions  spontaneously surreal  give new light  never arrive  no ends to a living story  this is a living sanctuary  flying hopes infant view  flying is where we want to go  lord flying the wave of streaming molten stones


Flying

hanging with pals telling tall tales  antics and laughter  joking and talking  happy sunny or rainy  hot or cold  ocean or snow  coast or mountain happy could be in a car  in a train  in a plane or in the backyard  happy time has no measure  a wonderful land  good looking women  pretty flowers and fresh avocado  happy old news entertaining cognition igniting a flame  i’m happy  are you happy too?  you can be happy


Happy

all the lovely people on the beach today trying to duck and hide from the rain


Portugal

high stepping the pull  shifting in the sand  licking salty skin  the moon lighting the warm air  shifting in glassy smooth morning lapping  the mood rolling


Beach

driving to climb the mountain in the cold  gentle wind and heavy rain clearing my brain  little towns along a winding road hunkered down for the storm  fires in homes warm hearts  invigorating charm is sensationalizing flakes drifting, floating and sinking  gently touching faces  winters snow  attach the wood and glide the soft sparkling diamonds in the ground  scream out loud for the mountain  screaming for the mountain agape and capturing the water quenching thirst for the crystals  peering through the evergreens  gripping the snow winter


Prelude and Summit

only in my thoughts are you here  only in my memory with my heart i can feel  heart and feel are the same  on my skin you are near  i can hear you talking  scramble gets the intent and seasonal leaves fall  the voice in the distance contains the call  its powers over reasoning  a broken arrow in my heart  only in my  thoughts are you here  only in my memory with my heart i can feel  heart and feel are the same  on my skin you are near  i can hear you talking  a broken arrow in my heart  every ounce of energy  listen  on my skin i can feel  i can feel you baby  i can feel you right now  the voice in the distance contains the call  it powers over reasoning a broken arrow in my heart  decrepit wolf cried save me  mangy cat leaped with flesh in its claws  moon warmed the sky with her lights  another bandit clutched my wife  get in the car and listen  get in now


Bandit

the club’s not open today  they’re up at the brown-nosing lair  strategizing the affair  come buy the message and play  either side's willing  confusing me and swindling the dared  the airheads got nothing to say  winning means shaving his hair  the message releases delay and fat cats not able to pay  from the simply trickle up-tee-dee  somebody open the club  strategizing mesmerizing affair  airheads sacrificing the self to the dare  you have something in my hair


Fat Cats

traffic jams and intense drivers toiling awash in the tension seeking the unwinding nowhere and concise  somebody take my hand  you should hold me  lean in coo in my ear  familiar pessimism  everything information overload  can you hold on?  stay near?  when are you going to visit?  will I travel the back road?  is everything falling into play?  are you fluttering in space?  is the butterfly festive today?  are you coming to see me again?  will you never leave?  will you place your heart in my hand?


To Know The Butterfly

watching her leap into air  kind of like happiness on the sidewalk in front of a busy hotel  smiling fully  the heroine marching  pointing in self direction homeward  noise filling the air  horns blaring commerce greetings in the u.s.a.  skipping through the walking  the road beacon signals homeward  home  60 wounded  terror  fight the terror  terror for terror  for terror  for terror  60 wounded 20 dead  brothers in war  twelve twenty one oh four  lifting her powerful fist into air while envisioning friends and hoping they too will return marching homeward alive and well  people of any faith  victory bow our heads in prayer  return to the falling and lifting the souls when johnny comes marching home lifting the souls
