How Some Things Fall

Do they remember how some things fall?

Do they tend to see us as some children’s doll?

Eyes black, hands all small

Now it feels we’re back to some County Ball

I can’t stop hearin’ how a cracked bell rings

Through the windows I keep opening

To let in crickets, call this place clean

They sing choir-like while the city scape gleams

Now the weather winds and bends her hair

Some call it love others fate’s quick stare

Now I’m starin’ out on that red brick roof

Where I know sometimes I’m bulletproof

So pull your pistol and go through

See me under I know no other will for me it do

I wanna go ballistic, feel realistically blue

I need to know the fire from the wire I chew

My oh my, don’t it seem

Them golden days don’t mean a damn thing

Some pastors call me their friend

Some lowly people say to me “Amen”

Trust this radiator just to do it’s thing

Coal-like fire warmth unto me brings

Some hope you’ll throw a rope and I’ll be there

Two bottles uncorked that we’ll leave bare

Summer’s headed to that sorghum hue

Only out walkin’ I can hear it croon

Cicadas quicken leaving us just a plea

Come on back to me now mama maybe next Spring

My oh my, don’t it seem

Them golden days don’t mean a damn thing

Some lovers leave me feeling thoughts

Others may see me and speak sour talk

My oh my, don’t it seem

Them good ole days don’t mean a damn thing

Some pastors call me their friend

Some lowly people say to me “Amen”