Trust me on this one
I can think of no world stranger than this one
I can think of no world I would rather be on
Trust the ripples on the water
trust the stones along the path
trust jazz
Trust Louis Armstrong scatting in Paris
his trumpet in one hand swinging
and his eyes half closed
Distrust every single word you've ever been told
except those words your grandma spoke
when the nights were getting longer
and you were young enough to sense the wonder
Love enough to trust
trust enough to love
trust me on this one
© 2012-2014 Arne Brasseur
