These are your shoes I wear:
Fireworks shared near by
and these are your shoes on my feet
I never saw this for me
wife and family maybe
but you believed in me
and will toast to the sky
to let you down for an hour.
Tell me, am I doing this right?
The last of a dying breed
a chip on my shoulders
and the nightmares that follow
impossible to not see the red run down my palms
but I know you’d say
I have more to say
more to live- more to dream.
To love that pretty girl who drives me wild
to put on that White Coat and wear it proud
to give a second chance-
Our time is up- the night grew cold
will talk next year
same place same time I’ll be here.
Saint's Muse 