The Judge, Jury, Jailer, and *******,
Come all at once
At the same time, In the same place.

At the same time, the trial begins
at any time.
In the morning, in the shower,
at the office, at the bar,
it doesn't matter
when or where,
it's only why
and why
and why and why and why and why and why.

They speak together:
"Why would you run from it with a 30 minute mile?"
"Why would you hide with the subtlety of a bull moose?"
"Why get out of bed when you know you won't make it?"
"Why waste that pain on your money and peace?"
"Why don't you just get it over with and die?"

And why
and why and why and why and why and why.
It's enough to drive you crazy.
But you know what they say,
Better to pull out your teeth
to feel some kind of way,
than feel nothing at all.

He ain't too quaint
That forlorn saint
Sat atop that rain soaked wood
He drags on his cigar, long and good
Flannel shirt and mud smeared Jean
On hard work did he wean
No, he ain't too quaint
That forlorn saint
But the sun sure kissed him hard
And left his skin crack'd and chard
And his fiercest lover yet
Is his own cursed sweat
That runs tenderly on his skin
While he works hard to purge the sin
Of being born a working man

One does not close the gap
of eleven years.

Because each one is a mile long and ten deep.

It's much easier to
Build a long rope bridge.

Because metal and stone take time to build out.

Easier but fleeting,
As it did collapse.

And I felt as though my efforts were wasted.

Cause' she couldn't give me
the real reason why.

Why she could leave me without a single word.

My father's voice
Is quite like a canyon:
deep, rocky, and beautiful.

My father's voice
Is much like a desert:
dry, windy, and darkly colorful.

My father's voice
Is just like the ocean:
blue, misty, and black in it's reaches.

My father's voice
would be ever more pleasing
If he would just shut up.