I walked into this town
dressed in rags
sporting an unshaven bristly grimace.
I was no pioneer of this settlement.
I knew virtually no-one,
had to ration each drop of water,
freeze four of the five pieces of meat I’d receive a week,
and guard my heart like it was made of gold.
Boy if I could pass it for tin foil
I’d have at least a nickel waiting for me at the recycle joint.
Real gem of a life I’d lived,
but the folk came to know me,
the wind seemed to carry my musk through the same trees
into the same windows,
and I swear I’d be hearing the same son of a bitch choking
on the musty scent that was given to me after a long day
of brutal bloody shit work.
I would eventually walk into the different parts
saying hello to each goddamned ingrate who inhabited the place,
each dusty skinned peckerwood,
Same walking sacks of meat such as myself,
and like I said… While I ain’t a pioneer of this place,
I had in fact FOUND my place among the rubble,
sipped on my pint of sin shortly after dusk
and the folk around me decided
I was just alright of a feller.
Well goddammit, so were they.
Wasn’t a son of a bitch or a broad around
who wouldn’t give you the shirt off their back,
ride to the clinic,
bring your mother her groceries when she’s lying there
with that all too familiar head cold.
Why am I tellin you this?
Oh, no reason really…
No reason other than the fact that I aint seeing the life I lived at my feet.
I climbed this fucking mountain
ripped the nails from my fingertips
chipped my teeth on bottle caps
and damn near killed myself
chokin on whiskey corks dipped
in love and self hatred.
I don’t see.
I don’t see.
Passion for things relevant to the times,
relevant to things that matter,
I don’t see…
I see greedy fucking children poised by political correctness.
Bunch of fucking nancy’s who call themselves men.
Can’t comment much on the lives of the she-folk
cause I don’t know what the fuck being a woman is like.
Don’t have the right to say how a girl ought to live.
I’m an old goat.
Been in existence 64 years,
been livin my life for 24,
I left this town and the only things on the walls
were dry dirt and water stains.
I come back and see human filth.
I’m ashamed but it just makes me wonder,
was it just that my eyes were closed the whole while?
Was I just dreaming,
wishing,wanting heaven to be real?
Youths used to be the harbingers of the future,
yet if I had a son,
I’d certainly hesitate to hand em the keys to the car.