One more time raked over and let loose to spin…
...out of control and falling fast to the inevitable end.
Taking 14 steps forward to have them all come crashing back once again.
Face first falling faster than the tattered flag unfurled at my feet.
Two at a time - I just can't stop it once it all begins. Its two times nine and I ain't 18 again. Long road to ramble and I can't run the ragged race no more.
I'll take out my best weapon, but still I got no defenses from failure.
I'd turn it off if I could just find that old analog switch cemented on the side of my shotgun soul. Rack and bone stiff, the shells will sail in a glorious mess.
It wasn't supposed to go down like this. No it was not supposed to go down, but it always does - in technicolor fantasy. Red and gold cut lines away from the green, green grass of home.
Oh, if the Old Oaks would just sway once more and trip the skewed light from frolic, and fancy free my fears would freeze on breezes so bold.
(c) & (p) 2012 subconscious mind publication company
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