Concord And Main

I had worked on my own for awhile

As a man who cleaned each crooked mile

But I quit when my heart became vile;

When my eyes took each passing load

Then I lived like a dog for a time

On a leash of my own meager rhyme

With the whip and lash of each selfish crime

Hear me whimper on down the road

I swear I'll never know the things you've known

Or the gifts that to me you've bestowed

See the man who, dragging cigarettes, assumes

That the girl sitting way across the room

Holds no curse: A foolish thought to presume;

A thoughtless act to stare

So he'll leave with no sign, no gesture

But a sigh, as he grips to his vesture;

As he grips to that most nostalgic semester

Of a time more or less impaired

I swear I'll be nobody's wreck to repair

But a tool for each soul in despair

By the crossing of Concord and Main

Where the church and stone steeple remain

There I walked, and tore my fate in twain;

There I died, and there I rise