The sun has set itself on the tips of western hills
Snake in its den, but for me: I’m standing still, my mind a wheel.
And you took most of your garments and your clothes
The smell of your hair will forever be imposed upon these walls.
My darling won’t be waiting there for me
Came up short at the river bend and creek bed
So I came back to the sea
And the waves are whispering this lover’s own defeat.
And the ocean is as blue as it is cruel
I let the gold slip through my hands while I drank and danced and proved that I’m the fool.
And the whiskey is a ruse.
It seems my fears are true.
My eyes have slurred and my speech is but a blur
Courage is fire, but it seems I’ve lost my nerve down in the dirt.
I stumble away into the town, “If you are lost, surely you can be found.” Just turn around.
I can hear your cutting words.
I feel your shadow creeping on me in the night.
I could have stopped that final fight, but instead I waved goodbye.
© 2011 Drover Shy. All rights reserved.
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