Flapping Your Broken Wings...

I can still see you there

In your grass-stained underwear

Dancing crooked circles

Across the golf course green

It must have been 3 a.m.

When we hopped that chain link fence

And ran across the grass

In the pouring rain

Oh and you kept falling down

And rolling on the ground

Like a drunken little bird

Flapping its broken wings

Flapping your broken wings, flapping your broken wings

Flapping your broken wings in the green, green grass

As if pilgrims with axes

Had never seen the devil dancing

In the silent branches

Of thousand year old trees

As they sailed up the wild coast

Leaning from their wooden boats

Shooting every pretty bird

That rose up from the weeds

When the sun began to rise

I could see it in your eyes

And shining on the golf balls

Lying in the grass

And a rusted chain link fence

A golf cart in a ditch

And the colored flags

You pulled from all the holes

Like jewels on your green dress

My lady of the golf course

Running in your underwear

To greet the cops who’d driven up

Flapping your broken wings, flapping your broken wings

Flapping your broken wings in the green, green grass