He was a lone man out of time.
He would say if he had only known
what he knows now,
he would have known what to do with it.
What he did not know was...
that he always kept his heart
in his pocket with his keys.
Bedrooms black and silver eyelets strung
the lies he'd told himself together -
secluded rendezvous in abandoned parks....
Slowly pouring his dreams on the rocks
with a twisted smile he talks
of what a pretty boy he was in his prime.
He was an old man out of time.
He never saw the source behind the image.
If he had only known what he knows now
it's hard to imagine
how it could have been any different.
Once fair innocence had become to him
nothing more than a spectacle
of just how dumb these kids can be.
About the things that really count,
he can count on his two fingers
for all the sagity he needs.
When, she, his daughter brought her lovers home
he'd always ask how long the bone.
He was forced into seclusion for protection
from those who knew him too well.
In conclusion life was a ball
and women were nothing at all.
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