Prince Irwin your past was standing at the trough,

You had a lad in your hand, a fist in your head.

While writing me a song called “Born to love”.

Sometimes I wonder what it is that you’ve caught.

Your words ment to me ‘man you’ve gotta take off’.

So I took the next plain on the age of thirteen.

Opend my eyes for what I’d never seen.

I spoke for the embarrassed with nothing to say.

Grapped a guitar without starting to play.

All these ways have leaded my here.

On another way to the next few years.

More future that’ll vanish in the past.

More of these questions we don’t wanna ask.

And even though the time made us part.

Words got a hold of my heart.



Prince Irwin how’s your princes, how’s your son?

Everything turns and we all grow up.

I think you’re planting, while I plant none.

Maybe you’re taking, while I still drop.

Well I’m on the road and maybe you’re done.

I found heaven, did you make a choice?

Do you still fire words without using your voice?

It don’t seem to work if your still on the ground.

Maybe you’re lost and need to be found.

Or making a song for the people who drown.

I wonder if you do but I don’t know by now.

Everyone has their place in the garden reserved.

But a name is just a call from people who hurt.

My name is well hidden behind the isolation in the walls.

Some will start listening when they fall.



Prince Irwin those days, yes I remember them.

You had your vision of becoming a man.

Well thats how it goes and thats what I am.

Drinking martini in your small caravan.

Smoking your sigarets with sister Diane.

Pieces of those dreams still wander in my mind.

And every little part of the world that ain’t right,

cross my heart and probably alwayls will.

Time will pass, while I stand still.

Yes I remember these rainy day clouds,

In the middle of August when we didn’t got out.

Listening to songs raised on tape.

Making a puzzle of words in shape.

Everything took his own road to the start.

And on the road we are.



© Tangarine