For An Ordinary Dream

Mr. Lynne,

Remember this?

When our hands were once too small and blistered to pick up a guitar?

When we were learning our trades?

Listening to our heroes,

Wishing we didn’t take the bus every morning?

Our dreams and ambition,

That make a typical day dull,

They wouldn’t leave us alone.

They still won’t.

As it turned out,

One day a miracle would turn up.

Did I need a miracle?

Sometimes I wonder who I’d be,

What I’d despise,

How I’d think,

Where I’d being driving,

Or when I’d be happy,

If a miracle didn’t turn up.

It was you.

You met your miracles,

So I have hope that I’ll meet mine,

One of these days.

We’ve been similar,

For as long as I can remember.

Whatever you don’t see,

I don’t either.

That’s how I figured,

I could do what you do.

Remember this?

When you never had to take that bloody bus again?

I’ll get there one of these days,

I’ll have you to thank for that.