Black-Eyed Pieces
You're on top, so, you think you've got 'em,
But, you don't understand, boxing's pugilistic ways.
Then, you're dropped, you hit rock-bottom,
They say, Hey Punchy, who carries your luggage these days?
You won, cuz, you knew you were, "The One,"
Now, you've got scars, broken bones that...never really healed.
With no more, "Glory Days," in the sun,
It's December, can't remember, your fate is ever sealed!
Copyright ©
Randy Freie
|