You took the news like a good zombie should,
The old man's blues fell on you with a shiver.
It was far too late to react in any other way,
You knew you were getting let go just not today.
They found you outdoors, running with the unfortunates.
Now they're sending you back to your black hearted ways.
I understand you had to seize it,
The young one chooses to bleed it like a river.
The sun was up and gone by the time you killed desire,
It was time to trade the land for steady water.
I can't remember whose fault it really was,
But you found comfort when I said it was mine,
I suppose you made that bed on the day that you decided.
Tim Easton
