A Song Sent Back Home From the Western Frontier
Hello people I know
I know the people we are
the kind of people from here
passed out in a shack
with a butt and a beer
or outside in the road.
And the wind cries and drives
one of us to his knees
while the moon lights up
a line of pine trees
that might give some relief
but he's ready to freeze
in a song sent back home, dear,
from the western frontier.
Hello people I know
I know the people we're not
the kind of people from here
who say that things change
and you can go anywhere
and start over again.
And with no money at all
and too old to get hired
when's the ship coming in?
where's the ocean, the pier?
It's all dust everywhere
and banknotes all our years
in a song sent back home, dear,
from the western frontier.
Hello people I know
I know what we hoped
the kind of people from here
with cudgels and cutters
and "peace, man" and "cheers"
who mean well and don't.
And the reason we left
used to be very clear
and that's just how it is
and it's just what we feared
we would see if we caught
ourselves in a mirror
in a song sent back home, dear,
from the western frontier.
Copyright © Lawrence Strauss | Year Posted 2017
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