Any Takers?

Go ahead, think on it, kid. I'll be here.

How many times can I cry

At the reasons and wonder why?

How many times

Can I look your way

And keep what I know inside?

How many times can I say

All of the same things when I play?

How many times

Can I let it all hang out

And avoid the shock of playing it safe?

How many times?

I guess that all depends on you

I’m waiting for an answer

I’m still waiting for your next move

How many times can I be ignored

When I’m still standing at your door?

How many times

(Am I going to have to beg?)

Before I can pick my heart up off your floor?

How many times has it been said

That you’re the one girl inside of my head?

How many times?

(A fool I must be)

Thinking you’d come back to my bed…

For What?

Here I am on that road again

With no end in sight.

Here I am making my way again

Hoping someday to set things right.

Did I forget all those things that you taught me

Deep in the dregs where I was found?

How did I end up back where I began?

The next time I find my shadow I’ll be sure to stitch him down.

And this time I’ll face them all (This time)

This time I won’t back down.

Here I am on that road again

With no end in sight.

Here I am making my way again

Hoping someday to set things right.

Did I let them build these walls up about me

When I turned my head and they stripped off my crown?

How did I end up right back where I began?

The next time I find my demons I’ll be sure to beat them down

And this time I’ll face them all (This time)

This time I won’t back down

Here I am on that road again.

With no end in sight.

Here I am making my way again.

Hoping someday to set things right.

Absence

What we write is something of an illusion.

Our hands twist and turn over intention,

in anticipation of the response.

There is a dark beauty between two magicians,

and I fear we’ll never be able to love each other.

Three Rivers FCI, Texas

I’ve seen a man taking his last jaunt down a road

A smile on his face beneath the dirty hat he called his home

I’ve seen this man so many times, so many times

There’s something about him that just makes me want to laugh

I hold it in and try not to catch his eye as he walks on past

I’ve seen the poor side of me

I’ve seen me down on my luck

I’ve seen me beggin for change in the face of shame

I’ve seen the poor side of me

I’ve seen a man taking his last stand against time

A smile on his face hidden between the mask of wrinkled lines

I’ve seen this man so many times, so many times

There’s something about him that just makes me want to cry

I hold it in and try not to catch his eye as he dies

I’ve seen the old side of me

I’ve seen me sad and alone

I’ve seen me beggin for change in the face of shame

I’ve seen the old side of me

No matter what I find

I know that I’m still alive

And as the cell opens I know

I’m not the last I’ve seen of me

I’ve seen the bound side of me

I’ve seen me down on my knees

I’ve seen me beggin for change without a scrap of pride

I’ve seen the bound side of me

Asylum Switch, Mississippi

Percy Castle was well known for the red color of his hair

He’d ride down that mud road with the wind from his tires

Kicking rocks up everywhere

Percy’s old man had a frown that smiled in the reflection of a glass

And when Percy came home from school he knew that smile

Would never last

He’d outrun his freedom on that road out of town

He’d follow the path that led past the slaughter house

All the way through the swamp to Mariah Sycamore’s place

A rail of a woman who had a history long tainted

Full of disgrace

She had one grey eye and the other was pasty white and twitched

Not many remembered her but those who did

Swore she was a witch

But Percy didn’t care

And found joy tucked away in the massive curls

Of her knotted black hair

Every night for 15 years they watched the sun

Claw its way through the web of vines in her backyard

For 15 years she gave Percy Castle a place to run

Percy Castle died 40 years later in a boat out at sea

Came back to Asylum Switch to be buried in Mississippi

If you want to pay your respects look for the black tombstone

With nothing but the carving of a white Sycamore tree.