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Sixty Miles Of Bad Road
Sixty Miles Of Bad Road
He comes striding along
Boot heels clicking against the road
He looks lean
Maybe a little mean
Not particularly lethal
But He is
He doesn’t seem to give off
A challenge
Til’ you see those eyes
Dead eyes that say
Don’t come against Me, son
But there’s always some that will
The last thing they hear
Is the whisper of His sword
Whoosh!
As the light leaves their eyes
They see His back from a
Very odd angle
But mostly they come
For the Embrace
And the Hungry smile
That lights His face
They don’t care that
He’s sixty miles of bad road
In a pair of rundown boots
They just want that final feel
Of what passes for love
From Him
