the light grew dim on that Sunday morning after coming from church service
outside on the patio sat an old cat named Sam who would often run when called
The village square stood a queer in distress pull back the covers from their eyes
A beat of the clock in the town's square sought for solace amidst the turmoil
life brings on excess waste to taste make no mistake some call it fate as of late
bury me deep in the sand try to understand the way of the undertaker's hand
feeling the breeze beneath the trees chaps cut off at the knees spreading its disease

we often falter to reclaim busy staying in the game at in the zone feeling alone
got eyes that seem so very sweet got dancing feet stand to repeat