I'm not a poet. And I know it. There is no deep secret. Tossing inside me. I have no timing. I can't form my feelings. Sometimes I rhyme. Sometimes I don't. So go ahead take a look at my kitchen. Take a look at the woodgrain there. What's it for? That hardwood floor. Is where I'm walkin' and thinkin'. Walkin' and thinkin'. About you