I guess ten empty bottles
on the lawn this morning
is nine too many
to call it just having fun
so you laid plans
and I missed all the warnings
you forgot how to accept it
but remembered you could run
and I don’t claim
to be anybodies better
and I’ve got bones
buried just beneath my skin
still every day
a spiteful sun wakes me
the band starts playing
and the circus starts again
Im good at pulling plugs
just to ride the eddy down
and the holes I’ve dug
travel miles below the ground
Im never eye to eye
but I never shake a saber
so if the sky falls in
grant me one final favor
I guess old songs
bring an echo of summer
walking with some other
years before I came around
and I guess old lies
have demand for attention
like stubborn old ghosts
that wont stay in the ground.
Poetry