We'll make a change.
I'm gonna pack up a case, and never return.
Throw my money at the walls-
in hope of some change.
I'll hang up picture with a frame-
to hold us in place.
A dedication to cause.

Who places this unholy just?
In jest, we all fall prey-
to the cruel being of time.
But there's a small chance-
that she'll hold you close.
Wrap you in her arms-
to turn reality warm.

The streams on your cheeks-
will run dry as clean towel.
The tenseness will fall from your bones-
like a well smoked rib.
We'll let time make the call.
And hope that she treats us well.
We leave our throats in her hands.