Meatballs and alphabets, ashtrays and cigarettes

Reflections on the meaning of life while looking at a bowl of wedding soup

Meatballs and alphabets, ashtrays and cigarettes,
what do they all have in common?

Signposts of the future, or reflections of the past.

 

Meatballs and alphabets, ashtrays and cigarettes,
what do they all have in common?

Not symbols of a rest stop, but visions of a quest.

 

Meatballs and alphabets, ashtrays and cigarettes,
what do they all have in common?

Old time rock and roll philosophy, the sharing of our souls.

 

Strangers at a bus stop, or friends at a rest stop.
Strangers who cannot see, or friends who truly feel.

Searching for meaning down roads less traveled.
The road that appears a dead end is merely uncharted until paved.

The road less traveled is far less lonely than they believe.
For beyond what they can see, it what you perceive.

 

Unafraid of the darkness, a thought, a dream, a vision,
 shared by two strangers turns the darkness into light.

Where darkness embraces those who dare to travel,
specters of a distance through the caverns of our minds.

 

Meatballs and alphabets, ashtrays and cigarettes,
what do they all have in common?

The fire that cleanses, brings ashes that refreshes.

 

Meatballs and alphabets, Ashtrays and cigarettes,
what do they all have in common?

They forever anchor in our mind, a way of traveling through time.

 


A song written on the back of a cocktail napkin in a bar near Harrisburgh, PA, 1994

Reflections on the meaning of life while looking at a bowl of wedding soup and an ashtray sitting at a bar

Copyright  1994  T.R. Peracchio all rights reserved

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