Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tragic, But Not So Divine

Jerry Garcia In NYC

Everybody needs a place
To hide and tend their sores.
All God’s failures need some space

Afternoons, the threes and fours,
They chomp and nip your heel.
And then the limbs and then the cores.

Armor’s fine, but it’s just steel,
And it will turn to rust.
Then you’ll be naked on the wheel.

Life and all, a total bust,
Goddamned bills and half-darned sock.
Never figured who to trust.

A sloppy mind and droopy cock,
Imagination’s victim.
Door’s still got a healthy lock.

 

3 Comments

  1. BingosBrother

    April 4, 2016 at 9:04 pm

    Bravo good sir. Brilliant. $$$$

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