Campfires and Masquerades Lyrics

Let me know your thoughts on this song’s lyrics. 🙂 I love the part that says, “Those who fear the grave, never find the truth”

Campfires and Masquerades
by Jason Upton

I remember a story
A story of a little boy
The story of a mother’s child
The story of all

I remember the middle of the darkness
Reaching out for a hand to hold
Reaching out for anything
That will lead me back home

I’m still here
I’m still waiting for you
After all these years

I remember the shadows
On the walls of my memory
They more around like reality
In this prison that we’ve made

And I remember the first born sunrise
Couldn’t stand to open my eyes
Like a blind man wandering
On the edge of his grave

I’m still here
I’m still waiting for you
After all these years
After all these years

Campfires and Masquerades
Come and go like cheap parades
When nothing’s lost and nothings’ changed
We like it that way

Our politicians have to lie
Because if they opened up our eyes
We’d kill them just like the others who tried
To pull us out of this cave

Maybe that’s why we’re so shaken
When our questions have the courage to
Come and drag us from our fiction
Those who fear the grave
Never find the truth

Everyday begins at midnight
If we’re ever gonna see the sun rise
Somebody’s gotta wake up
Before the morning comes

Somebody’s gotta wake up
Gotta wake up
Somebody’s gotta wake up
Before the morning comes…






You can’t swim in shallow water
Your can’t fly above the ground
You have to fan the flame to fire
Don’t settle for the easy round

Who will go with you to deeper waters
Or are there those that wait beyond?
Who will brave with you to higher places
They must let go of safety’s sound

Don’t hang around with heavy travelers
Who hate the burning heat of sun
Who say but, “Hush don’t start a fire.”
“Mellow down, please mellow down!”

You don’t belong to shores
But down the ocean
Where waters roar and spirits soar
You have to fuel fire and be burning
Let it burn, don’t let the vision drown


I Want to Wake Up

child and plane playing
Image via lotus pocus focus

I want to wake up to the sound of waves slapping against the shore
On and on like a soothing rise up call

I want to wake up to the sound of rushing seas
It reminds me of the children’s zest for life
Tugging at my sleeve, giggling playfully
Like waves they run to-and-fro with Ocean’s energy
I want to wake up to this sound
To the sound of joy unquenchable and eyes that never lose their sparkle, that wonder…

Wake me up to the wild blue’s invitation
To the bold and simple, to a dauntless adventure
That children have mastered
And we hope to learn again



Image via

this time of the day is yellow
your colour is most intense before it disappears

“this time of your life is mellow
you turn to him for ardour
by watching him paint the skies you’ve turned your back on
your face beholding pseudo-lights and glaring pages of a life-decaying manuscript-to-be
is this the story that you want your future to look back to?”

remind me
that i’m not mellow
or shallow
or sullen
or forgotten
remind me
before the blushing sun covers its cheeks
before a silence sets in
before the shadow descends again

remind me how a slow breeze washes dirt like a river
remind me how a soft sunshine ignites a flame
remind me how a pelting rain cannot wash away your fragrance
remind me how a chilly night cannot overpower the embers of this heart

this time of day is fading
I reach out for your arduous colours before they’re gone
I rage, rage, rage for my life to bleed
let my colours bleed before the night that numbs could come

This Quiet

This quiet
Isn’t really quiet
Soft music
Voices from across the aisle
Morning sun
And building’s fluorescent
Wooden table, like forrest
On glossy tiles

This quiet
Isn’t really quiet
A book
Electronic mail
From peripheral eye
A white sheet
For writing
And thoughts
Are wrestling

Everything is quiet when no one hears
Your thoughts,
Loud as fingers typing,
They fall away
Then strangers stare into your eyes

Everything is quiet when you are shouting
In your mind
Your words leave marks
On no one but you

Everything is quiet when you are

Mouth shut
Heart pounding,
Breathing easily,
The way you are,
This morning –
Like every other

The Dream That Died

The fragile dream
the movie, the future in your head
The life apart from
when your eyes awake
The string that pulls you
running, fighting for that day,

The fading
The chords that bring you
to that future, snaps
The path into that one day,
The picture in you head remains
The life of it departs
It parts from you
It’s harder now to keep your eyes

The dream that died
You hold it here
It’s everything but dead
The colors just as vivid
The movement more real
Desire is even greater than before
But who can take
That it is lifeless now?

But things, they die
Like people,
they leave at their appointed time
Ready or not,
life takes away from you
It takes, and leaves you
with a vacuum in you heart

Like the fallen
In your arms
It seems
he’s only sleeping
Then he begins to pale
And warmth begins to leave
Sometimes, it takes a lifetime to believe
‘Cause when you shut your eyes
He lives

Take time to grieve
A dream that died
Take time to shed
The tears of letting go
Take time to grieve
A dream that cannot live
Take time to shed
The tears of holding on

Where There’s Sunlight

sunlight in the morning on desk
Image via

Write where there’s sunlight
Passing through a clear glass wall
To glow on careless pages
And scatter shadows on your desk
To catch your downcast eyes
And bring a glimmer where it dries

Write where there’s sunlight
Even if it’s just to softly linger
Caressing dimly corners
Behind the curtains for a peek
Playing hide and seek
The sun, it shows you things you don’t see
Or seek

As it silently lands where your eyes gaze,
And rises up to where your heart thumps
It touches you with warmth, and something
inside you flickers…
As you bask in it
The gossamer shadows flee
And something sparkles
Where once
Were only things hidden, concealed

It’s Time to Write

image via
image via

It’s time to write
Again, it’s time to feel the bite

Flip through that dusty pile
Of abandoned thoughts
And neglected invitations
To truths denied

Ponder memories
That rock you out of sleep
You are a boat
The river is your lullaby

Rush to where
The currents wait
It’s time to write
Again, it’s time to ride
The river fearful, the river wild