SO HOW'S IT WORK?
Are you happy now? That big red
chair has a suitable pedigree; all
the years that went before it ring
with truth. They guy with the
swollen head, he sang like this
before. I remember : English
gardens and lazy days.
-
It's said that home is the body we
live in. If that is true then, I guess
that huddled body on the curb is
home - though he has nothing,
though he hurts, though he seeks
food.
-
An electric guitar is sizzling its
mannered noise between these
downtown buildings : the most
simple of chords, by a fool who
cannot even read music. And
his guitar case is flipped open
for money.
-
I guess they all remember things :
each differently, and each different
things. Yet, everywhere we turn, the
maddening search for money exhausts
us. The homeless one, the working kid,
the rich kid, home, on a weekend lark.
Life changes its light, and everyone
just begins walking ahead.
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