shadows on the sidewalk

arriving at steady delay

of plane rides sent from

whirling wet lands

retracing this innocence back

to a pay phone in Dublin

a bottle of bubbly water

and a piece of gum to help

combat the nicotine cravings

some fu*king delirious creature

was born on that flight to France

that night and we both saw it

tho in varying degrees

fast forward 4 hours to Paris

dragging Destiny down to the ground

with a bottle of beer and

a rose on Rue de la Roquette

where years before a long-haired

bum sang ‘Zombie' for me in

cracked english, harmonizing

to the tune of a busted guitar

missing strings and a german

shepard sat eagerly, idly

by his side

terrorist attacks in the underground

friends left below ground trapped

in bloody misery

bones, dreams shattered

choking on shards of

spine puncturing their soft throats

their faces mangled beyond recognition

all for the sake of fuc*ed religion

we saw this coming from way

beyond the womb

ah, Gare du Nord

a rich man's hell

a poor man's tomb

our shadows were left etched

onto the sidewalk for

eternity to pick apart