HERE I WAS, WITHOUT YOU
All the drainpipes had already
fallen, and those old gutters which
had been filled with leaves now
screamed out for cleaning. Too
late. To say you're sorry.
-
That was always a refrain in old
songs, someone always rueing
about something they did; broken
hearts and sob-story effects. I
never got that - but then again
I never understood why a man,
any man, would sing.
-
It seems so weak. So whiny.
-
The damp cloth was held over
my face in the heat. Someone
made mention I'd fainted on
the field. One zillion degrees,
a thousand portly people, and
I'm the one who gets picked
out for the special effects.
-
Just tell me the time of the
Demolition Derby. Show me
the way to the next whiskey bar.
There's always something lurking
around the corner. I came close,
but it was still rather far.
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