Manilow, Prince, and Lucy’s Diamond 

You came and you gave me a microphone metaphor that still leaves my soul sore 

A huge bore and a walk out the door

Fall to the floor and remember the sky will fall 

Right when I find Raspberry Berets in a thrift store right next to a world baseball classic hat collection

I should believe in my heart more

But to do that I must anticipate that I can score 

I had a hooker who declined my debit card

So I took it to the ATM because I wanted to buy some ATM

But she was just tricking me

Working the mark that I’ve grown to become 

Ever since the Colombian stomped on my heart and turned it into angel dust

I repaired the damage and fled to the bay to find a tan

But she fled Atlanta to find step kids

Came home the next winter to figure out how to wrestle with emotions 

It put me in a sleeper 

Dropped me in the river 

And I craft brewed my substance abused liver

Started searching the Gospels again in the book that came and gave me my worst bout of guilt ever

From Paul to John to Mark Luke and Matthew I sung psalms of better days 

Only to realize that the only good days 

Are the days that never end 


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