After all the rain
I heard you can’t dam that river
and who is the giver
and would they open veins
it must be a sick man
to dig in that dirt
I’m certain they hurt
as they say, hate to feel
for real, it’s wild
this rooster awakes the child
from the angry chair
with crazy hair, all out of whack
is it to cure the junkhead from god smack?
or maybe something beyond
as if them bones will travel forever
but you and I know, no one stays down in a hole for eternity
how about we ask just one more time
is it going to rain when I die.
