Damn Big Oil …

How can we know,

how far,

the long way can be

Looking from where we are,

it never seemed that long to me

I’ve many miles behind me,

and maybe now,

not so much ahead

Looking back,

it seems I made good time,

even with the directions I miss-read

a Funny thing,

This thing called time,

A thing we are always running out of

A thing we can never seem to find

I am always coming up short

or losing mine

There’s not enough of it about,

and though it’s always here

It always seems to come and go I’ve found out

No gas,

no money,

it is weighing heavy on my mind

I am moving quickly to the bottom line

I still have places I want to see,

I still have hills to climb

No more going quietly into the dark night

Here is my reality

No more drives in the country burning daylight.

It looks like I am flat out running out of time

A hammock on the front porch is all that is left for me.

Locked down and serving my time,

Here on the sound side of my city.