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Death Watch Over

by Walter Jones (Age: 67)
copyright 09-25-2004


Age Rating: 13 +

Billy called me need fifty to come home
I want to die at home dead in mind already
Dragged me from the hell under fire
Ran five miles with me on his shoulder

Sheriff said bail is waved
Just have him back here
Nurse said he is not breathing
Cool night air as close to home as it gets

Little tumblers fall in the padlocks
Timbers are ash and cinder
Embers burn in the glow of never know
We sing the rememberance of lord’s song

In the whisper of a dreams bent to new
Prisms leave a reflection image not seen
All I have is a head that hurts and staggers
We let a world of believe drive me forward

Here the sky goes on forever in shape
Blue and red turn to hue of never knew
Tad of dope smiles and brings her hope
Will you see me on the day of rebirth

Strokes of growth feel sad morning walks
Actions of the few control time we spend
Blankets warm the body and cool the heart
For the bed is but a place to rest lost conflict

Silver slippers that dance on the throne
Real feels the pain of steal in the night
Child of my best heart left alone at home
Smile keeps me coming from a troubled soul

Terrible the wild side of freedom escaped
While the shadows peal the ghost from the floor
Table turns a bit south and lets the air out
Society wins again soldiers march to empty

Pretty little dress of white graces stage
Tip a piece of me lost and never given to free
Pictures in a book of our lives' just a page
Take the pillow in the middle as work has value

Keep the door closed to the winners
For the stage gobbled up their souls
So long ago in the staggering underground
Save and hold a hit for me

Locks and keys open the view of my heart
Out of her sight burns the last of my light
So willing the trust closes in on the reality
Hold the door wide for the heart is closed inside

Many are the angels in hell
Each a chance to see sugar man
Spoon hot melted power
Ecstasy left in the mind

Shells find the last snail
Moves to the end and die
Who was stoned
Why DOA






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        03-02-2009     Frank Fields        

Rather a grim picture of the mind or mindless visions of a soul haunted and trapped within the reality of a narcotic world. Sad. My heart bleeds tears and my eyes cry drops of blood. :(

Frank :)



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