In the claustrophobia of the ally,
The hobo sits
Wearing a smile on his sleeve
Under the pink neon lights
Of convertibles and the 1960's.
Where time stood still
And never moved.
Hobo-man saw,
Saw with his glassy light bulbs.
That the red, white and blue
Does not thrive on me or you.
Hobo-Man sat and watched time change
Watching the blue turn to gray
And gray turn to green
He will stay here, he thought.
Here in the ally way.
The world, too twisted, he thought.
Unable to make him stay.
For Hobo-Man does not live for time here, time now
Everything only makes him frown.
But Hobo-man still smiles somehow
In a world so crooked and hollow.
Hobo-Man burns like a fire
And lives life to live life
Mad to live
Mad to laugh
Mad to cry
Mad to love
Mad to die
Hobo-Man screams to the sky
Burning like a Roman Candle.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 2:39 PM UTC
In the claustrophobia of the ally,
The hobo sits
Wearing a smile on his sleeve
Under the pink neon lights
Of convertibles and the 1960's.
Where time stood still
And never moved.
Hobo-man saw,
Saw with his glassy light bulbs.
That the red, white and blue
Does not thrive on me or you.
Hobo-Man sat and watched time change
Watching the blue turn to gray
And gray turn to green
He will stay here, he thought.
Here in the ally way.
The world, too twisted, he thought.
Unable to make him stay.
For Hobo-Man does not live for time here, time now
Everything only makes him frown.
But Hobo-man still smiles somehow
In a world so crooked and hollow.
Hobo-Man burns like a fire
And lives life to live life
Mad to live
Mad to laugh
Mad to cry
Mad to love
Mad to die
Hobo-Man screams to the sky
Burning like a Roman Candle.
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