in the end

when it's time,I'd like them to play Johnny cash,why me Lord,Hurt,spiritual

Johnny Paycheck and the old rugged cross,

willie,s Angel flyin to close to the ground,willie and ray,seven spanish angels.

George Jones,He stopped loving her today.

and so many more.the day of melancholy is becoming attached to the day ahead of it.

have you ever just been tired?

always remember that you'll take A piece of everything you've been involved with with you.

it's been a good run,

and so long,it's been truly fun,

I'll take A piece.

I've left many A friend and foe,

and many who knew me,I did not know,

I'll take a piece.

unable to turn back the hands of time,

from the abyss as A child I had to climb,

I'll take A piece.

never A child,not even A kid,

yet always held accountable for all I did,

I'll take A piece.

unruly dangerous hateful and wild,

the demon of self protecting the inner child,

I'll take A piece.

raging with vengance, once owned by dope,

delivered softly, from hands of hope,

I'll take A piece.

looking back at this life,it's ups and downs,

the unhappys smile,the frown on A clown,

I'll take A piece.

I've made it to the end,the gamut is run,

from terror and evil,to sometimes joy and fun,

I'll take A piece.

so when it comes,be it patient or in A rush,

someone silence the angel,hush,

I'll take A piece.

I only ask you Lord this one thing,

remember me when you pass out the wings,

I'll take the peace.

tico has an interest in poetry. lyrics on their own, stripped of the music, are usually just poetic fragments. The melody and the arrangement provides all the juice. Try stripping the music (if you can) away from this: She was a day-tripper. One-way ticket, yeah. It took me long time to find out. I found out. Or this: I'll come to your emotional rescue. Without the music in your head, it's just a flat statement. Poetry written in any style has to provide everything on its own.

"The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor and the highwayman came riding, riding, riding Up to the old inn door."

"...and when Horus, your son, comes to avenge this divulsion scepter in hand, sandals on feet, I shall return from across the sand, from loyal Jackal-land, to gorge five nights and days on ass's meat."

etc.

Check out Pablo Neruda if you don't know his work. Mary Oliver. Do a Google search for "Mountain Whippoorwill"

I like. I've got this awesome poetry book.it's in costa with my stuff there.I've been reading and studying it when I can. I'd like to write in another style.

c.1982 When Ron wanted in, he knew where to begin, conservatism's the way we were told, seems he forgot what he said, budget's more in the red, but your mem-ry fades when you get old, He's tried to explain, he knows we're in pain, but its, Bedtime for Ronzo again.....