|May 2005 / Volume Six / Issue Three|
Thereís a world out there, I know.
But I donít go no more.
It got a lotta jazz, pizzazz,
lotta sparks, mountains of money.
Thereís this world out there
that clanks a rusty wheel,
staininí earth with old blood.
Peopleís always falliní off.
I watch it all, you know,
them stickiní cinders ina eye.
So loud the death wails I canít hear.
But sometimes open the door aní peek.
|RETURN to May 2005|