wordsworth

Sending this out to you Ellen! It’s got it all. Wheels. Masks. And an "angel" picking up the pieces of a Sad Story.

 "Sad Story (Out Of Luck)"

A sad story.

Might find it boring.

 

Lost his mum to a drug named heroin.

Father’s gone.

So, grandma’s left with everything –

two grandkids and a daughter’s coffin.

 

I never really knew him when he was growing up.

But I assumed that it was a little fucked –

no parents for him to look up to –

just a brother whom I knew was a dodgy fuck.

 

Shit!

I used to think he was a dick –

tried too hard to fit,

and never grew out of it

 

Now he don’t talk too much, talk too much

He’s probably given up, given up

I think he’s had enough, had enough

Cause he ran out of luck, out of luck

 

Never left his home town.

That’s what probably did it.

Never saw the other worlds;

he didn’t want to go and get it.

Occupied by fitting in where minds are small,

where small things

make the small kids feel so tall.

 

Will he ever change?

 

Well, apparently

He reapplied for college and was waiting for his grades.

It wouldn’t help his case…

Oh, I couldn’t ever say.

 

Now he don’t talk too much, talk too much

He’s probably given up, given up

I think he’s had enough, had enough

Cause he ran out of luck, out of luck

 

But, wait, my life’s out!

A night out!

Brothers in town.

Sum the doubt:

a few fights now; kicked out clubs…

 

Shit!

The suns up!

 

One look’s all it took

for his girl to cuss another.

 

Dudes being dudes,

they blow at the chest –

to impress these breasts

that’d just started this mess.

 

They must protect the damsel in distress?!

So, other girl’s man decides to clench his fists.

 

And then, he threw and missed.

Brother’s hit.

As did his –

dropped him quick.

Then one kick

to the head…

Oh, shit!

Other man is dead.

 

Now he don’t talk too much, talk too much

He’s probably given up, given up

I think he’s had enough, had enough

Cause he ran out of luck, out of luck

 

And now he’s locked away –

21 years of age.

 

How many lives must go to waste –

fathers’ graves –

until I see some fucking change?

 

Oh!

And I don’t even know why.

We can change it too!

Find one another now!

I want another life!

 

Now he don’t talk too much, talk too much

He’s probably given up, given up

I think he’s had enough, had enough

Cause he ran out of luck, out of luck

You who are on the road
must have a code
that you can live by
and so become yourself…
because… the past is just a good-bye.

Teach your children well:
their father’s hell did slowly go by,
and feed them on your dreams.
The one they pick’s the one you’ll know by.

Don’t you ever ask them why.
If they told you, you will cry,
So, just look at them and sigh,
and know they love you.

And you, of tender years,
can’t know the fears that your elders grew by.
And so, please help them with your youth;
they seek the truth before they can die.

Teach your parents well.
Their children’s hell will slowly go by.
And feed them on your dreams.
The one they pick’s the one you’ll know by.
Don’t you ever ask them why.
If they told you, you will cry,
So, just look at them and sigh,
and know they love you.