the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Lying In An Open Field

All bets are off when the cards fall
And you find yourself knocked out,
Lying in the bed of a '52 pickup.
Some things were never meant to be
In order, en route, delivered.
You were floating 3 feet above the ground,
But it felt like you were 6 feet under...
Looks like someone's got cold feet,
And those words can't find a way past your teeth.

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