The Suburban Years:

It's So Peaceful.

I can see the pressure
I can hear the dawn
It's so peaceful
So peaceful here in song

I write home
I write them

I can see the logic
I can read the press
It's so peaceful
So peaceful here in song.

Why it's Peace.

When I float,
above the bottom,
I know always,
Where I have gotten!

Why it's peace,
in my hand?
Why it's peace,
In your land?

As I vote more,
I see who I am for.
I allow you to buy,
but my answer,
is to say hi!

Why it's peace,
in a band?
Why it's peace,
in my land?

To the Winner.

To all those who,
in their ways have,
opinions and maybe,
loose them on you.

To the staff and also,
the crew as they,
glide across the region.
Also know as,
that region that,
I had to become,
within.

To the American Dean,
whose slave I am not.
To the French martial arts master,
whose tounge might call me Pierre.
To all those who,
have a way of being,
that must be lived,
within.

To great people who,
are taking or,
not taking but,
dutifully qualifying,
to win.

Tuesday Evening.

As if you need to know.
We brought them back,
from the tide while,
my fourtunes they can't really hide.

Tuesday evening,
it's what we really want to show you.
Up the hill we wondered.
Across the rocks we pondered.
Just as it opened my mind.

Inspired by the Velvet Underground's Sunday Morning.

You don't seem.

Peace is what I vote for.

Just why does it,
require one to vote,
when peace is what I vote for?

Joints in the box,
I'll undue and send,
a number over to you.
Then it will be up to the count.

Just why does it,
require one to vote?
Peace is what I vote for.

Junior comes over to the table,
a landslide.
While blonds hurry the fable.

Just why does it,
Require a vote?
Peace is what I vote for.

European Romance.

Warm at home,
small but still,
european romance,
in our home.

It's been so sad.
She's so poor with,
that guy. It's to be.
It's a joint she'll,
never smoke but,
Now I am going to say...

Warm at home,
small but still,
european romance,
in our home.

Peace is your space.

Peace is for the Right.

So stop fighting.
Why do you want
to do this,
anyway? Just
shakehands and
leave each other...
alone.

Love is a Right.

Love is a right.
Peace is a hope.
Sands of emotion.
Pouring by the Pope.

Copy right by Peter Timusk
Send me fan mail!

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