LYRICS TO SONGS I'VE WRITTEN FROM 1972 until PRESENT



SONG TITLE INDEX & DISCOGRAPHY INDEX IN RIGHT SIDEBAR / All songs are protected by copyrights noted on each lyric sheet. All rights reserved.

September 25, 2011

AN ANGEL FELL INTO MY BED AND WOUND UP IN MY ARMS

Oh sweet angel, come explore with me

I’ll take you places you have never been.

Show me things that I have never seen…

Close your eyes, a bed of trust.

Leave your doubts there in the dust

Sweet angel, come explore with me

Oh sweet angel, do just as I say

The unknown calls just to seize the day.

You grant me this and so I will obey…

Close your eyes, a bit of fear,

deepens joy, I’ll be your mirror

Sweet angel, let me have my way

Oh sweet angel, sit beside me please

Your calming presence teaches new found peace.

Your laughing smile, it brings me to my knees

Close your eyes, and taste my touch

and if it gets a bit too much

Sweet angel, I’m just here to please…

Oh, sweet angel, just from where’d you fall?

Into my open arms forever blessed.

Fortuitous this life we’d never guess

Close your eyes, and hold me close

For all too quickly, our time goes.

I’m here, my angel, when you call.

~ for Molly, December 10, 2008 – Big Bear City, CA

words & music by Brad Riesau ©2008 Brad Riesau / v32unes

demo streamed on MySpace.com 2008

A THING FOR ROSES


He had a thing for roses, she liked to rock 'n roll.
It was part of his neurosis to always see the hole.
She was looking skyward, he was looking down.
He had this thing for roses, she had to leave this town.

He had this thing for roses, he saw them everywhere
a slippery osmosis just underneath his hair.
She liked Lynyrd Skynyrd. He liked looking inward.
He had this thing for roses, she had to run around.

He had a thing for roses in spite of all the thorns.
The only thing he knows is you gotta grab it by the horns.
He was always careful, she would jump right in.
He had a thing for roses, she had a thing for sin.

The moral of this story, the moral of this tune
Is keep your options open, when starin' at the moon.
Two sides to every story, two halves to the whole
Nothing goes with roses like a little rock 'n roll.

Words & music by Brad Riesau ©1998
written predominantly 7/24/98 from some earlier notes