The Arsonist

From day one he was trouble His parents knew on sight Their bundle of pure joy and bliss Was somehow, just not right It wasn't in his nature To be part of a gang He like to be off by himself He liked things that went bang He was troubled in his school years Never getting real good marks He didn't get along with other He was burning caps and making sparks But when this boy found fire Well, then....his world became real small Never mind the big explosions He would go and burn them all Small fires set in dumpsters Behind the shops, by where he ran He'd set fire to the garbages While he trapped a cat inside the can He progressed on up to buildings Made that jump, in one big way He torched a crack house, all abandoned Buy using gas and old, dry hay But, the thrill was not a keeper It wore off as fast as it arrived He had to extend the feeling That made his body feel alive He knew to see his fires He would have to volunteer First he would go set them Then, help put them out...I fear It was a stroke of pyro genius He'd set them and he'd put them out He'd learn what gave them trouble And he'd give them more without a doubt He never killed another Never burnt a persons home He always set his fires Where buildings always stood alone They caught him late September He'd burned a building late one night It was supposed to be abandoned But, was full of squatters, out of sight The picture, it was famous A hippie shaking someone's hand It was on the front page of the paper And it was shown through out the land A fingerprint was lifted A switch, that burned, not like it should And from there, it was no problem To lock this boy away for good He was sent away to prison He was gonna die there, bet on that And on his first day in that prison He saw an old man, who just sat Sitting in the corner by himself, no one around Sat a man, all old and wrinkled Lips were moving, but no sound Came forth from this man's mouth, his lips all cracked and dry, You could stand right there and listen And hear nothing if you tried...