Post by AquarianM on Sep 16, 2003 at 1:26pm
Hey, it's not OZ but it's close,
Someplace that only exists in your mind,
They had stock in trade in high volume,
Once upon a time,
And ghosts falling from the windows,
Repetition shadows in the mind,
Sad place old place lost place,
They pulled the stone bulls and roosters down,
Carted them off like trophies,
Just a big gone hole in the ground,
Twenty stories of old Chicago,
Or was it millions I forget,
Anyway there's just broken Earth now,
Caterpillar tracks and busted old bricks,
The ball swung hard and thundered the world,
And the ghosts were chased screaming,
Or maybe they're stuck in the old bricks,
I took one home and set it aside,
1808 in big worn carved letters,
Just a standard size yellow brick,
Obviously made of yellow Illinois clay,
Yeah I own a piece of the old Chicago Merc' today,
But if I forget what it was,
Someday remind me,
Just a lost yellow brick,
But if it had a soul calling it home,
I'd guess it would weep,
Maybe for what was so grand once,
Or maybe because it has a home again,
Or maybe just because someone took a few moments,
And as poets strangely may do,
Remembered it for us all,
And maybe that piece might set the old soul free.
AquarianM
Author's Comments:
300 West Washington is flat dirt now,
and really it's a shame. www.skyscrapers.com/re/en/wm/bu/117342/
Someplace that only exists in your mind,
They had stock in trade in high volume,
Once upon a time,
And ghosts falling from the windows,
Repetition shadows in the mind,
Sad place old place lost place,
They pulled the stone bulls and roosters down,
Carted them off like trophies,
Just a big gone hole in the ground,
Twenty stories of old Chicago,
Or was it millions I forget,
Anyway there's just broken Earth now,
Caterpillar tracks and busted old bricks,
The ball swung hard and thundered the world,
And the ghosts were chased screaming,
Or maybe they're stuck in the old bricks,
I took one home and set it aside,
1808 in big worn carved letters,
Just a standard size yellow brick,
Obviously made of yellow Illinois clay,
Yeah I own a piece of the old Chicago Merc' today,
But if I forget what it was,
Someday remind me,
Just a lost yellow brick,
But if it had a soul calling it home,
I'd guess it would weep,
Maybe for what was so grand once,
Or maybe because it has a home again,
Or maybe just because someone took a few moments,
And as poets strangely may do,
Remembered it for us all,
And maybe that piece might set the old soul free.
AquarianM
Author's Comments:
300 West Washington is flat dirt now,
and really it's a shame. www.skyscrapers.com/re/en/wm/bu/117342/