For Those of You Who Love Snowmen

everything's lame

 

The setting isn’t important

But you’re gonna get it anyway.

That small town in Virginia

Where they made me a man

And gave me an education.

One warm September night

With memories of a red haired virgin

Smiling at me from behind

The alley’s shadows.

 

I never saw the woman at the 7-11

Ever again.

She sold me a bag of chips

With a side of sage advice,

“Things get better.”

 

Maybe it meant something.

Maybe not.

No explanation, no mix of words or music

Or memories

Can touch that sense of knowing

That you were there

Alive in that corner of time

Whatever it meant.

 

I’m here now

Because a girl shot me down

In high school.

There was a 50/50 chance

And she gave me the bones.

We would have gone to Vegas,

But the last I heard she was in Paris…

It fits her.

 

My patron saint is Johnny Cash.

When I’m sitting here in the dark

His black ghost is behind me

With both hands on my shoulders

Breathing out that last love song

That still has to be sung.