Laborers in ties tending computers.
  9th floor and paper airplanes out
  the window. Benny Boo night shift
  games with Joe and Rick and Bill.
  Candy machine our pinata. We clutch
  our essence desperate not to be cogs.

Buildings stand shoulder to shoulder
  like giants ready for battle.
  The rich live in ivory towers. The rest live
  in concrete boxes in this city of extremes.
  Our hearts beat faster. Our desires burn hotter.
  We live with blind eyes and silent protest as
  atheists **** God with science and formulas
  while we light candles and put coins in a box.

The clocks all move backwards. tock tick.
My skin is parchment and my heart beats
in slumber quiet as a mouse.
I might have died last night.
I was old and palsy struck. I don't
think anyone is ever ready to die.

We were giddy with the promise of war,
adventure of a lifetime after all.
We were boys on men's threshold.
We saw our generation explode in
****** mist and die like fish on shore
with the mustard gas. Broken men
returned home and never
could love or forgive again.

Zoot suit, straight jacket, Tuxedo.
We are what we wear.
Rock, paper, scissors.
Hoodlum, insane, sophisticated.
Prison, asylum, penthouse.
*****, *****, ****.

I've fought this war with me in
  flooded rat infested trenches
  I die in me over and over and
  all I see is barbed wire blood.
  I want victory but will accept
  a truce. Pride tears me apart.

Don't bother. I'll just break my own heart.
I always do what's necessary to keep me in
misery.  I'm just a country music song.
Pickup and boots and flask and goodbye!