You sit there, biding your time.
Out of your head and into your mind.
Penning thoughts that are dreams in action.
A glass raised to an absent muse.
A boy stands in his father's shoes,
And a drunk man smiles at a thistle,
Under a Poet's moon.
Under a Poet's moon, there's a life sign burning.
A Poet's moon, like a vision shining, and
The lovers lie in the long grass, stolen flowers make their bed.
Under a Poet's moon, there are dreams in action.
Prayers met and questions answered,
As the world whirls in the darkness.
I'm still staring at the skies under a Poet's moon.
A night black as Hoodlo's eye.
The sparks fly from a tinker's fire,
As the stories burn among us under a Poet's moon.
A seed falls onto stony ground,
Without a hope and without a sound.
From the weeds will grow the flowers, under a Poet's moon.
Under a Poet's moon, there's a salmon settling
In a guddler's hand that is patient waiting.
Like a lover's touch, to charm the life,
His fingers play the reeds.
Under a Poet's moon, there's a whistle blowing,
Out in no mans land
Where a flare is falling in a deadly night.
The dreamers stand like flowers in a storm,
Flowers in the storm, we are flowers in the storm,
Under a Poet's moon.
You sit there biding your time,
Out of your head and into your mind.
Penning thoughts that are dreams in action.
A cross made in a polling booth.
Another flies in a field of blue,
And a drunk man smiles at a thistle,
Under a Poet's moon.
Under a Poet's moon, there are angels crying, dead men born,
And devils laughing, and the dance goes on regardless till
You're carried from the floor.
Under a Poet's moon, there are dreams in action.
Prayers met and questions answered, as the world whirls in the darkness.
I'm still staring at the skies, staring at the skies; we're still staring at the skies
Under a Poet's moon.