John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
Two old men spitting through the teeth of their dreams
They sent an arc of bitterness to you
You didn't duck it and you got hurt
In this funny world we're going through
It might have been the hard liquor talking
Or the hard hard luck of the draw
Some accidents are years in the making
Some rabbit's feet can rub you raw
But you're on your way
You don't need anyone here
It's safe to say
We will all disappear
Your suitcase is packed full of promise
And your attitude is packed full of light
So let them play the clouds
You play the stars in the night
But you're on your way
You don't need anyone here
It's safe to say
We will all disappear
Your suitcase is packed full of promise
And your attitude is packed full of light
So let them play the clouds
You play the stars in the night