And you can see his sickness
Hovering there
A cloud over this room
Like the whimpering and pathetic
Cry of a child
The faces are old
And new
Different at other tables
The beer is the regulator
His protector, fortress and shield.
Let me tell you a story you won’t understand
The faces now quiet
Eyes like stricken children
He has pounded his fist again,
And all of that excitement
All of that excitement
May he never forget
Those things that never happened
The day he didn’t
Fight like a brave.
No comments:
Post a Comment