relative dimensions of what isn't right
as the world passes by in the dead of the night
causing the problems, an upheaval it seems
crushing the hearts of those that had dreams
yonder the horizon, maybe a new day will dawn
come with our coffee as we stretch and yawn
always so much harder than it ought to be
as once more the fight gets knocked out of thee
so baby let it burn till there's nothing but ash
stay out of the ruckus and run from the clash
your name's on a list in indelible ink
with all that you know, with all that you think
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
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