The Saint Patricks day Parade
Rolled into town on a foggy night
People filled the tents with drinks
Feeling alright
The biggest party in down
Raise them high to toast
Then throw them down
I never was a social contender
Or on a first name basis
With the local bartender
Partys for me felt like an eternity
I could not wait to flee
But when the rivers turn green
The celtic bands are heard
In the City of South Bend
Tomorrow morning will be as quiet
As the flight of a hummingbird
The great release
Of power and ease
Appease those around you
Struggle continual
Struggle continuum
The more we please
The more we will be internally displeased
When we can only lie in the quiet of our homes
Where no one roams
Are we destined for failure
Should we learn to tell the truth
Before it goes global
We can not be known for unfounded ideas
Or facts
A revolution of truth
Will be our saving grace
At least it would help us save face
The money is flowing
Without anyone knowing
That behind closed doors
A select few
Are getting very very
Rich
While others are getting sick
Paying bills
Hustling to stay alive
Behind a few doors
With a no entrance sign
It makes me sick to think
How rich some get
Skip the previous sentence
Coffee ground repentance
Transport the authority
You have over a single commodity
The mint leaves grow fresh on the south
Side of town
Across from the ethanol plant
Away from the people
But in the middle of the day
As the frosts of winter
Are far melted away
Fresh mint can be inhaled deeply
Pulled out and steeped
This mint has a way of making the air fresh
A cross between a milky frothy richness and mint
Fresh mint will always remind me of my home
At least the better days
The days when opportunity overshadowed doubt
The fresh mint days of my life
In new ways
On a brand new day
Let’s break the burden of proof
From a whole listing
Black listing
On a Thursday
Great cold
Here we go
Botch that one
Foreign roads
Lead to treacherous results
What is known is more unknown
Facts are no longer facts
Fiction and fantasy
All intertwined sarcastically
What is literal
The truth
Tied up
Dropped to the bottom of the ocean blue
We have to decide and research
It’s now up to me and you
What in the world
Strength throw dumbbells curled
Javelin hurled
Bench press thrust
Is this a must
Such poor word selection
Power hard
Fast and furious
This leaves more to be curious
Than resolved
Our new mantra to be debated
While people in our country are confiscated
Why such ignorance and clamor
Why the subtle glamor
Celebrating the courageous politicians
Who are much more to be pitied
With blame
Can’t turn away now
How
When all over the headlines
Trying times
Setting a new tone in our own homes
This is trouble
This news
The news
Is trouble
What we lose
And what we gain
It’s all part of the game
How we take it
What we take away
Who are the refs
And how do we play
How many players
How many shots
Whether we play in the cold
Or play in the hot
How many balls
How many strokes
What types of games
Fit what type of folks
No one decision maker
Gets the sole power to command us all
Destroy us all
What we gain
And what we lose
I guess its up to me and you
A Cup of Songwriting 