A bunch of songs I wrote and sang at The BlueFrog on the 3rd of September 2014 for their 'singer-songwriter' night. 

"...My love she speaks softly 
She knows there’s no success like failure 
And that failure’s no success at all"



Acoustic Set at BlueFrog, 3rd September 2014

she waks across the old man's gaze
a shadow of her glory days
when innocence was far raised above the need to pleasure
the old man jeered at her fumbling ways
the jester cheered and adjourned the case
she pretends she is not hazed, the queen of hidden treasures

she wanders out on broken streets
where her protectors skip their beats
trying hard to be discreet that her name knows no meaning
objectified to suit their feats
she plays her part when told to greet
and usher dignitaries to their seats, who've come to see her kneeling

her fragility is on parade, 
her essence lost in the charade
of servitude, fathers degrade, for all the world to see
while scoffers scoff, change your ways
her womanhood forced to embrace
not knowing how to walk with grace, she is al lthat she can be

but she's yours, she's mine
she's ours, divine

her lovers came and her lovers went
loved her through the night but left her spent
a museum of bruises and dents her visage torn apart
she waits in patient confidence
not doubting divine providence
someone will see what her silence lends and mend her broken heart

but they raped her soul and they starved her bones
her tethered spirit she guards alone
her tryst with destiny's postponed, she nurses broken promises
her children's sin for she atones
in exchance for their scorn
she makes no mention of al lshe's bourne while they mock all she accomplishes

but she's yours, she's mine
she's ours, divine

she made no claims she had no flaws
the jester abused the old man's laws
imprisoned her with no just cause, a captive to his greed
she entertained her kings and lords
bowed in disdain to their applause
her children disgraced by what they saw abandoned her to their deeds

and so she sits a bloodied whore
among the dogs among the poor
where famine starves all that's adored, where thirst and helplessness meet
the old man fades on some distant shore
the jester smirks as he keeps score
and she needs not less or nothing more than someone to hold her, as she sleeps

The Old Mans Gaze

Bridge Over Troubled Waters

Setimentalist
Charismatic Fool
Prodigal 
Self proclaimed Singer/Songwriter/Romantic

Clayton Hogermeer

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