maybe i've spent too much time crying.
maybe i'm not good enough to die.
crawled out of that hole one more time.
wonder how many more i've got left
in me.

you see,
i've heard the bells and sirens.
ignored them and all rhyme and reason.
they say it's the time of the season.
to make way for the sun, it's beamin'.

the light it sheds shows me everything.
kinda makes me want to sing.
like the jester of a sad king,
i dance for my life.
while inside i'm dying.
inside i'm dying.
inside you're dying.

i know, i know
it doesn't seem so
but your judgement's clouded
just like mine
it's about time
we take inventory
of the things we hold dear
and year after year
they change, transform
learning to move with the waves
instead of hiding in the caves
it's hard but necessary
it allows transcendence
it's about bending

i ate up your love
and i threw it up in the street
with eyes on setting suns
so uncomfortable in our seats

i dug up your treasured chest
couldn't believe what i'd found
i thought you were the best
standing atop your muddy mound

why does it always seem
like i can't handle the truth
think i need jack nicholson
to knock out my favorite tooth

but it's over and done
over and out, it's been fun
i still swear you're a ****
but my eye's still on the sun

old men feed on young blood

with the guidance of the wind

the dollar looks down over the mud

on the strength of all their sins


the almost happy look down in disappointment

as their dreams are popped like bubbles

at the parade of the newly appointed

we trust that he'll take care of all our troubles

pop our troubles like you did our dreams,

please

one night to prove to you
not everything is blue
one day to pave the way
i need a reason to stay

calling on higher powers
to ease my mind
can't wait for the time it takes
to walk this thin line

so many colors around
all the greens and grays
our ears pick up the sound
we lean, we lay

we won't be here forever
this i know
in front of us, our lives are tethered
this i know

will thee see me
in the light, like i hope?
or will i be on my knees
drenched in dark clothes?

will thee keep me
locked in a box with key?
bound, but free,
i will be what you need me to be.

Chapter One: Bozo & Bonzo

The Goatman was a fat guy who lived in the old part of town where everything looked tired. No one around there cared very much about anything.
There were two bums who liked to hang around the train tracks over there. We started calling them Bozo and Bonzo. Bonzo didn't mind because he loved The Who and Bonzo happened to be his favorite drummer. Bozo did mind and would curse and spit at us whenever we'd say the word. He told us to call him by his real name (Charlie) but we liked Bozo a lot more.
Anyway, my friend Lawrence and I would give Bonzo and Bozo a quarter each for a recounting of a recent sighting of the Goatman. One day after school we decided to drop by the tracks to see if they were around. They were, and they were both **** drunk and stunk like wet dogs do after they come inside from the rain. Bonzo asked me if I wanted a swig from his flask and I shook my head no.
"******' *****, I knew you weren't the real deal," Bonzo muttered as he swirled his flask in a circle, as if it were an expensive martini.  
"I don't need your nasty backwash, thanks," I shot back.
"We want more information on the Goatman," Lawrence broke in.
"We have quarters," I added.
Lawrence took the 50 cents from his pocket and extended his arm. Bozo quickly snatched up the coins and laughed.
"You two hot for the Goatman or somethin'?"
"We're not gay for the Goatman," Lawrence says. "But we're definitely gay for finding out who the **** he actually is."
Bozo laughed some more but it came out as a hearty, borderline obese and drunk gargle/scoff.
"We saw him yesterday, believe it or not. I was takin' a **** in a bush across the street from him and he came amblin' out. I was too drunk to care much at the time but lookin' back, I shoulda been more scared," Bozo looked down at the worn boots on his feet and kicked the dirt. "He was carryin' a tiny plastic shoppin' bag, all neatly *******. After he went back inside I crept over and took it and just ******' ran, man," Bozo seemed distressed just verbalizing his encounter.
"So what was inside?" I knew he was getting to it, but I needed to know.
"Just some candy wrapper. Nothin' but candy wrapper. Butterfingers', 3 Musketeers', Pay Days. You name it, he ate it," Bozo completely broke down laughing this time. I'm coming to realize he is the sort of person who thinks he's funnier than anyone else seems to.