Wynter Gordon

He's won over the crowd
Arms are raised in the air and body are swinged
The son of a minister, he's learnt the way of his father
Leading us all to believe in this movement
And though they know litttle of the german borned army brat
The crowd feel that they've travelled the world with him
And ended their journey here in New York City, at this perfect moment
Sitting on a stool near the edge of the stage
His eyes meet the crowd, and he takes them on one more through an intimate tale about a woman, Or many women in fact
Who's beauty, he compares to that of neon light
As his lyrics hold us, wih questions never to be asnwered
He gives the gift of fantasy
The women fantasize while their men take note of all the right things to say, and all the right ways to say them
They're fewer minutes left than before
And the crowd seems a little bit anxious of what they know will be his last song
He stands, takes another swig, and began his hit, Pledge Allegance
A song that in this moment, seems more directed at his adoring fans than at his muse
The seconds seems to speed up, and we meet him at the final height of the song
They are depths in his voice that echo pain, though his stature implies resilience
He leaves the stage carny and alone
But we are with him
We have joined the movement and we're along for the ride
His songs will lead us to our own realisations and revelations, like all the classic before them
Cadillacs