What malfunction did God have when he was sticking the stuff inside of me;
why did you have to be the next one.
I could feel the spark at times it felt so close I could almost touch it.
I stomped it out with my big feet before it could give off any heat.
Like the greedy fools cutting open the goose looking for gold
I gut my life and pull out the insides until I’m hollow once more.
In another life their was no rain,
the big Navaho blanket worked perfectly,
you loved the show and we talked all night and
with a kiss I left you off to sling the morning bread.
Instead I spat venom at the kind hand;
you scrape the surface and the gilding frays and exposes the cheap metal beneath,
then the band begins again to spin up the carousel once more.
It burns more than I remember;
eat the beggars trade until its dirt fills the belly and
your stuck scratching at your eyes fighting to let the light back in.
The words ring through my head
‘it never happens the same way twice’
I have my doubts that it even happens twice.
How long this time do you suppose a month,
a year, or some unending time that ticks away the moments of life as it slips away.
Would it have been better to have said nothing and let it slip away into obscurity?
Barry wasn’t good for much but he did see straight,
people realy don’t want honesty,
they prefer the comfort of a lie to the uncomfortable truth.
The bars don’t bend and the warden never sleeps,
the visitors never stay with each day a repeat of yesterday,
I always thought you were the bird that visits Dantès in the Château d'If,
never meant for me to fly free with you just a reminder that there is more outside.
I so wanted it to be with you, but I was thinking that their was a second act but perhaps the last one was it and I’ve just started its long finale.
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