Hey kid
Its a little bit
Better after
The devil leaves
His barber shop chair
Behind and walks
Into the liqor isle.
I m there looking
At red bread tags.
Your still with your
Parents.  Im not
Embarrassed
You feel the cold beer
Your father slid over your
Necks left side.  
The can was silver
Like the old lawn mower
In the dark shed.  
Im still with the moment
Of diverting the truth.
When he says
They havent fired him yet.
The new hair cut starts looking
Old again.  And our time in the
Store was breif to catch
One of the last busses.  
Look for me the last
Person in here I wanted to see.
I was eyeballing my favorite
Sky scraper a brown bottle
Of whiskey.  
I make up the party
And become the bussiest
Man or women walking past
The carts.  
I wish there were more years
To give me the store
And a house bigger
Then the hill side.

The christmas tree is why I kissed his face.
I saw the lites shoot out like comets far.
A brand new time against these days of war.
Was he the gift I waited to return.
Or maybe just another burnt out star.
I wish for angels landing on our tree.
To tell me if he was the perfect man.
But when he opened the wrapping I Hid.
His chances were aloft with ornaments.
The highest round was ruby fused with green.
The hair thin hook was hanging like a dream.
I new for now ill be ok a while.
As long as christmas wins over our smiles.

Into the concrete cracking heart
His favorite skulpture scowles
At everyone he loved.  
He goes out on the deck
Every dark nite and waits
For the fog to lift away like
A drape exposing the fear
Of leaving a balcony
And falling into the hands
Of pebbles bound to break
The effort of falling
More then a hundread
Pounds of history would
Allow until another dark
Day awakens the troubled
Animal like its a ware wolf
Unfrozen from the curse waiting
To leave a balcony.

You and I will
Hide behind these
Red and blue sky
Scrapers.
And dance with
The colors
That change
Every thick
Bold line
Into a new
Dimension
Like
You and I
Looking across
The street
From my world
To your unique
Red window.
My office is filled
With blue dreamers.
And yours is red with
fresh smiles.

The pain of death is truly human.
But love is universal.
The transition
Is swallos building their home.
But the conflict lies between
The eagle and salmon.

The pain of death is truly human.
But love is universal.
The transition
Is swallos building their home.
But the conflict lies between
The eagle and salmon.

Moses o mighty moses,
Shoes of god are naked,
Holy is the ground,
And holy is his chambers.

Unholy are the sons of horace
Who must pay up in death.
And by the staff freedom
Is sweet like milk & honey.
God of prophets
Tell the family Abraham loved
Opression never goes unanswered.
The waiting finally has ended.