My father was a salesman.
My mother was a saint.
Working every God-given minute to make enough to pay the rent.
The war was nearly over.
The peace would soon begin.
Living on the edge of the city when the roads were going in.
They take but to on.
They take but they had
So, they to and a song to help them through the
They’re going it
going to
a piano a
tea cigarettes enough on the go.
Another yearning to
Learning to keep and a
couldn’t more, they carry
They couldn’t take any but had to on, on.
They more, but had to carry carry carry carry