I Stare Wisely Into Nothing.

I stare wisely into nothing but if it's sitting okay with you
I'd certainly like to think that somehow you would believe in me 
And if I may ask for your permission there is something I'm giving
Where the how's ask the questions if it never really wonders why
So some sublimity reaches heights in the art forms which we write
They say a poet's preliminaries can turn a man into a magic spirit
Therefore, for filling up space where we grace the stage of mighty
Reciting work in French literature when Mozart became a star
The frets they played the music halls along the streets of Denver
Orchestras, violins, musicians sing the piano chords string quartets
Singers in the background found a love but lost the heart to cry
Fermenting faith in our blood but why listen to religion anyway
I have to write in this type of fashionable adversity of processed wit
Caressing every inch what truth may hide in the heat of moments
Processing thoughts and ideas which somehow are difficult to find
Faithful tables sits and waits for another lover lost his hope in fame
I'm standing on the corner thinking I go in and drink another
A poet sits and thinks to fall in love with a women whos content
Stand on a stage where the world stopped and it started crying
When things are really happening and its talking and taking place
Curses curse the cures and even the Mona Lisa appeared lost
Singing fine finding time and filling it up with the fruits we like
Plights fight like we never knew it would ever happen but it's right
Roman lives women's lies take to drink and swill it down real tight
Mornings move across the streets of Manhattan where they die
Don't stand still we stare with double vision, landscapes upon a hill
Ladies heels dancing skills remember double vision it's still there
And doggy bowls with barking howls finding companions loving
The Albert Hall still stands tall where Londons life brightens up
And to discover what isn't then mascarade around in knowing
What is right find the time towards a new beginning?