Monday, August 2, 2010

We did the best we could...

Oh, death comes to town
you never see
what it means to me
nobody can hold me down
tell me the way it is
the place where I belong
a bar or meeting of people on time
for anything scheduled
to be there
no matter what
we were expected to share
made to be men
learned what it was 
to learn
runaways home every night
desperation and fire being
the only constant
and tears and trying
and fears and crying
that makes you stronger
if it doesn't kill you
it makes a good story

No comments:

Post a Comment