as it pulls down long tracks so slow
Huddled in my window seat listenin’ to Bach
No idea where this train goes
Slippin’ a stack of greens to the conductor
He’s starin’ real mean like he knows
I’m lost. Sad and lost. I could use a benefactor
to back my solo solip's show
I was born there in Small Pebble
snide term that curls the locals’ smiles
Made my mark as a rot-gut rebel
drinkin’ rot-gut booze with a rot-gut style
The pale moon hurdles through stark winter trees
Their ebony bare arms try to block
the light…Can’t block me…Rot-gut rebel…Do as I please…
Cryin’ on that midnight train from Little Rock
Needin’ to sober up so I can take stock
Bleedin’ so deep down feels like it’ll never stop
Needin’ to sober up so I can take stock
Needin’ to sober up so I can take stock
Roger Armbrust
February 9, 2014
Roger Armbrust
February 9, 2014
