What I’m craving right now is a
Shot of July,
Fireworks flying high
Over this town that everybody wants to leave
But I will never get over,
Never get over his smile,
Friday night,
Pulling up in my drive,
His voice so full and alive,
Making me want to dive
Right in,
Right into the lake that’s too cold
But I’m too old
I guess, to laugh out loud,
Do something just for fun,
Be happy for no reason,
Be optimistic and cherish hope for a
Better season-
I’m supposed to be already
Battle-hardened, war-ready;
I haven’t reached twenty but I know
There’s evil in the world.
That doesn’t mean there still isn’t good.
I’m craving a shot of July when
I’m not old enough to take a shot,
But I’m old enough to take a stand,
Lend a hand,
Understand,
Witness injustice firsthand
And use my voice to try and mend.
So please.
No more gunshots in July,
No more mothers wondering whether
Her son is going to survive the night,
No more human skin grated against concrete,
No more hospital beds surrounded by weeping,
No more lives lost and priests kneeling
And children screaming for their fathers,
Both earthly and eternal.
What I’m craving right now is a
Shot of July,
Fireworks flying high,
The loudest screams out tonight
Are the children chasing each other with
Sparklers in the yard,
Not yet marred
By the ideas of the world.
So please.
No more gunshots in July.