lead
Dodgin’ life's bullets looking' for heaven
With my knife, my only weapon.
It makes catsup flow
In every Shakespeare road show.
Billiards in life's funeral parlor
No direct line of fire
Ricochets--- herd of bees.
Kill you behind trees.
Too much lead in the air
To climb safety's stairs.
Talking nuclear war.
Play golf--yell, “Four”
Drop dead keeping score.
My sergeant told us,
It is no fuss.
There are only three
Bullets in reality”.
First has another’s name.
Not that it keeps you sane
Passes cleanly through,
Never seeing you.
Second has your name,
Not that it keeps you sane
Only has eyes for you,
You are cleanly through.
Third has money t' burn
Says, “To whom it may concern”.
Only one you can spurn.
You can make it miss
Just be its mistress.
Or was it “master” that he said
When he told us about lead?
Wish I’d heard my sergeant
When he drew that bullet’s target
‘Stead of thinking' how much lead
To keep my bait near the bed
Of an Atlantic sheepshead.