Author Information
Face Scars
I Keep On Shooting Off My Mouth,
Like a Cannon,
From Those Good Ol' Civil War Days,
I Keep On Getting Those Black Eyes,
And Blue Dreams,
And Low Tides,
My Mother Was Right,
As They Say
That Hampster Keeps Turning
The Big Wheel in my Mind,
It Creaks,
It Squeaks,
It Whines,
Some Days are Piles of Dirt,
Some Days are Easy as Pie,
Some Evenings I Think I Can Fly So High,
Some Mornings I'm Drowning in the Hurt,
There's a Man,
He's Sitting Next to Me at the Bar,
His Face is the Perfect Place,
To Hide His Scars
