Twelve Hour Turn Water Under Bridges Rise
i study the veins on my mother's hands, as i did as a
kid, but still can't understand, how she still stands.
her wrinkled skin tells a tale. was it in '63 that you
finally first reached a teenage year? only to find you
would journey the rest alone. i never thought of stolen
youth, water under bridges rise, their death doesn't mean
my demise. 13 is a long way from grown. 13 is a long way
from home. drop out of school, join the war, is it better
than here? it's better than home. this small town is
crying and you are all alone. put yourself on real
tight...gotta wear yourself just right. now reveling, god
is love and might makes right. finally been chosen, gonna
live in the 'city upon a hill' and be a 'beacon of
light'. let's join the choir and start to sing real loud.
kneel with those buying into manifest destiny and agree
that those not chosen will be forever lost at sea. i was
never asked much tolerance, what i got--a time of little
asking. when everyone is diced and distracted, with no
such enemy deliberately. i see things i could change
but...if this continues, i could just ease on by.
