Thursday, June 21, 2012

WHEN I COME BACK HOME

When I come back home
there is no humble Oklahoma city
to challenge the champ Miami
There is no left over paper from the morning
sitting on the steps
or a gift box
left by neighbor 
There is no get together 
to watch the game
When I come back home
There is no love
to play with
Life is a lonely song
you don't sing often
on the road
And she goes silent
when you are waiting forever

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