"24 Month Loop" - Song Lyrics

So these are some lyrics I wrote, just figured out the melody/chords today and I think I'll record a shitty demo tomorrow.

(demo will be at http://www.myspace.com/pinkishrubbish)

Well the theme of a dream
it can appear so serene
until the car stops,
you awaken
and forget what you've just seen
but if it's any consolation
for your stumbling imagination,
just try to find some solid ground
on earth that is shaking

(Chorus)
Wistful recollections
Candid inspections
Of why for 2 years
it poured torrentially,
you know it felt,
it felt like a century

And you were there
And time just stopped
it held me there while my heart dropped
Because the imitation,
of a life already taken
is not a life at all
but a sadistic little fall
into your eyes that grip so tightly
and let up only slightly
they thought that you'd be flighty
well look at you now

(bridge/chorus/fireworks whatever)

But all the painted landmarks
of this little town
they still peek out and remind me
why I've got to leave right now
Because the cobble streets
and parks and trees
are just as pissed as me
that a girl who wants some wings
will settle for anything her master brings
sorry dear, it's you who's missing out on me

Untitled Story or Poem or Whatever (the Result of Being Really Tired)

There is a boy,
well, really he's a man.
He's mostly grown up,
but he hasn't got a real plan.
Everything in his life seems predetermined,
but not by fate or God,
but by the fabrics of society,
blanketing and blinding him.

But the boy (or man) keeps walking along,
and now it seems beauty has intervened,
and the streets are paved and gleaming,
new green is growing when others are leaving.
But despite all the new additions to his yard,
there's an empty spot in the back, near the pond.

And it doesn't feel right,
it's been gone for sometime,
the spot where something used to sit but now has not been for quite a while.

Was it ever really there?
"Yes", he swears, he's seen it before. It haunts his dreams and it's carved in his floor and everyone else thinks the garden is full.
But tragically, only he can see the decay,
the waste and the spreading of nightmares and grey.
Knowing this one thing gone is the key to all things,
the bringer of joy and freedom and open field dreams.

He walks over the grave,
so deep he can't see,
the bottom or end, transcending the earth.
And he looks out on the wasteland that others call his turf,
and they enviously glare at his supposed achievements,
without ever finding a channel to reach him,
because perception is altered from body to body,
time has changed even the modest to haughty.

The man trudges on.
He tries to look forward but suddenly looks back,
and the small boy he sees, he is taken aback,
and he falls to his knees and wants the past so bad,
but it is not for the man, only for the boy.
He knows not how he knows, but only that he does know,
and it is cement in his mind, it is certainly so.

So the man sighs deeply and marches on,
knowing not what he'll come across,
but knowing he'll find another spot to lay,
and new gardens to grow,
and new air to be breathed,
new life to be seen,
fresh surroundings.

And maybe, the man, he startles to think,
will cross the barrier that borders the brink,
of the thing he's been missing this whole time,
the oldest of old desires for all of man kind,
love, and just a little more time.