Cloak

I got no need for confidence

I’ve got no room for eloquence at home

I got no use for consequence

I can live inside the events of which I’ve sewn



I got no time for explanation

I’ve got no sense for reservation inside my soul

I got no weight for conversation

I can hardly find patience for my own



Can a man trust his own soul

Can a man love enough to forget the old

Can a man use the past enough it becomes the future’s cloak



I got no claim for fortune

I’ve got no tongue for porridge just as well

I got no intention for courage

I can clearly picture words foresaid trying to rebel

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