1950

Cold, cold 1950

a year from now I'll be away

a year from now you'll hear from me

my chin on the water in the darkest time

I'll cut through country, country bound

with foot in mouth before the town

that looks of shadow and of cloud

and looking back be damned

just underneath the line of visible (and well)

before I'm found and cast to hell

when minutes turn to months and kill

my hopes of coming home

I'll have a life somewhere, I know

I'll have a life somewhere, I know