Gil Scott-heron The Crutch
His eyes half-closed revealed this world of nod(?).
a world of lonely men and no love.
oh god.
his life of seeming nonchalance can't hide
the pain and fear that in his mind resign.
from dawn till dawn his bodyhouse (/body, house?) was hurting and none of us can truly ...???.
we sat outside and ??? the ??
the fool is always easy to forecast others doom.
the savage beast that once soul-soothe/so soothed his brain,
has wired his ugly head and stirred/stayed (?) its claim and
called ???
here is his once more soul. he will have to add the sorrow's thole.
this men, still men will be like you and me(an ?).
upon the world reached out, they chose to flee.
crutch.
crutch.
