Losing all your friends and having nothing,
But still being able to run down and in between,
The grid that is Downtown Denver,
Whistling and dancing,
HERE'S A QUARTER MR. HOBO!
Hop off the bus near 15th and grab someone by the back of their shirt,
Howling and gasping,
"Maybe the stand-up comedians will understand"
Fluttering your breath after the 7th,
Cup of coffee,
Black and steaming like yer gurgling insides,
I'M A GONER!
THERE'S NOTHING FOR ME ANYWHERE!
AND I'M GOING TO DIE DIE DIE IN A PIE!
You put yer face into your hands and sob,
Noticing the feet going by and that the sun is still shining,
Looking up 16th the Daniels and Fisher Tower is still there,
The only relic of the Old West and a breeze hits so good,
You can smell the mountains...
Times like those always remind me of the tick tock of life,
How the seconds pass by and I treasure the minutes,
Passing by into hours of solitude and wonder,
The little voice says not to worry because:
Even when it's not."
I'd give you a hug if I could. But I can't, so you just have to know that I schlub you. You're my sugar and you make life sweet.