Breath out of tune
Eyesight blurry unnamed
Trying to piece together
These days that seem the same

When I thought I had it
I really had nothing at all
My signature stands black on the page
And I think some days a man
Can only take so many hours in his cage

I hear the cars pass by my white linen'd window
With faces on the street walking to where I do not know
The sun's behind a wall of clouds that looks like snow
Wondering where the coffee is and where the doves go

I got my desk that's wide and a lady that's mine
And we got all day to sit around n' waste time
I step back, into the dust, and hear the puppies whine
As she pours me another cup of that fine wine

At dusk the jailer must feed the prisoners
Their eyes are black beans and serene
One talks of his mother
One talks of his little sister
Another talks of his broken brother
And the last says "I've only ever had my daughter"

Sun through the window
Chairs alit as if from within
God takes a seat at the bar
As the Devil behind the burner
Looks over his shoulder afar

To be ****** out of one's home
Can stir such human resentment
Forgiveness was not given to one,
So why is it given to the rest of us?

These thoughts
Do not tie me down;
I am not being sold or bought

They go through me,
They play around inside,
And when I've had enough of it,
And it enough of me,
We part ways and say goodbye.

A present stained red sits on the porch step
Fellowman trying to repay his lengthy debt
I step forward as the white robed judge cries,
"Guilty on ten degrees and don't you even try!"

A fine given and no penance emoted
Words are meant to be unshackled, spoken
"Ten dollars to the bailiff," the judge swooped in,
"After that, you can leave and begin again."

When you look into your reflection
In that big mirror in your master bedroom
And see those squinted eyes and hair a mess,
Your mouth twisted in a way you can't even guess,
Go down to Annie's or that Russian place with the terrible coffee
And think to yourself what you're really wanting

You may get an answer. You may not.
It may take a minute,
An hour,
Hell,
It may take a month or more.

But, would you rather be floating down a river
With a slight wind in your sail?
Or pass every direction sign,
To blind to see, too tired to tell.

Rock the cradle
With a gentle hand

Kiss her forehead
As much as you can

These times are running,
Don't you see?

We've got to be good to one another,
As if he were your sister and she was your brother.

The white moon breaks through crystallized stars
And I'm still sitting here listening to these rambling cars
Not anxious that anything I do is up to par
Oh' life's too long not to throw it all away and go back to the start