the road may have been long'
but you were allways comfortable
with the top down in florida sunshine
breeze blowin away all thouse dark thoughts
man of your word
you sat in a moral court of small minds
and put up with her advances
and the ever present escapism
that haunts her every step
your words fire like rifles in the crisp dawn
but only the wooden soldiers fall
benith the bullets of your breadlines
she lay there with you'
and caressing the poor as she looks at you
with such tears
and such assembled broken heart stories
motherless and lost
the beggar passes his pan
your way
coins and a few loose buttons
times are tough under the I-95 bridge