Avenus Sans Pitie Poet Lyric

Wouldn't Have It Any Other Way

HR girl called me "sir" today,
like I'm already a memory.
Fifty years of diesel and grit,
smoke I choked on willingly.

Mirror showed a man who’d quit
somewhere down the road.
No ring, no porch, no one left
to notice so I let go.

Left my keys there on the floor,
walked out, didn't slam the door.
Not chasing peace,
just trying to settle the score.

A middle-aged ghost
in a linen-white shirt,
looking for the place
where the ending won't hurt.

Down where the law's a rumor,
down where the truth's a lie —
Cartel country is a good place to die.

Celaya to Ecatepec,
a ditch, a wreck, a warning sign.
Tijuana salt and tequila —
A man hanging from a bridge
wasn't the first in line.

San Salvador, a bar, a girl
who asked me where I'm from.
"Not where I should be" —
we danced till the night was done,
while kids threw dice on cobblestone.

A middle-aged ghost
in a linen-white shirt,
looking for the place
where the ending won't hurt.

Down where the law's a rumor,
down where the truth's a lie —
Cartel country,
an easy place to die.

Colima's pits, Acapulco's ghosts,
men hollowed out like empty coasts.
Honduras streets, Guatemala's heat —
I keep walking toward whatever I'll meet.

A middle-aged ghost,
run out of road to hide.
If death wants me,
I won't run — I'll just step aside.

Down where the law's a rumor,
down where the truth's a lie —
Cartel country is where I'll die.

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