Ain't no reason or particular season to the rhyme... but my head is heavy- and my heart is rotten to the core.
There's holes in my pages where there once were words- the book worms got 'em and left me empty...
I asked ***** Joe for a light, but his flint wore out on the road into Fallujah. Now he's rotten to the corps- he can't hear us anymore... a secret, silent sentry.