Time for the final bow.
Rows of deserted houses.
all our stable mates are highway bound.
Give us our measly sum
Getting the air inside my lungs
is heavenly.
Were starting out
with nothing but crippling doubt.
Well rest easy
justified
Ive suffered a swift defeat,
Ill endure countless repeats.
The gift of memory is an awful curse,
With age it just gets much worse.
but I wont mind.
