You honestly think you know don't you,
Deep in your heart of hearts,
You wish to know the truth,
When in the end,
And after the fact,
You'll wished the secrets had remained so.

My mouth tastes only of ash and tobacco,
My right thumb sporting a small burn from the lighter,
And my eyes are dry and scratchy,
And all I think about is how you're gone from this world,
Never to greet the sunrise with me again,
To laugh at my stupid jokes,
Or be my only ally when the world itself seems to be out to get me,
A wall to press my back to,
A rope to my drowning man,
The Governor's stay of execution to my riding of Ol' Sparky.

I sit here,
Thinking of you Dear,
Watching the sunrise on the lake.