Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Your own stranger

In the end, you will become your own stranger
In the crowding mass you'll find the lone stranger

When you sit home late drifting by the fire
Standing on your rug will be a starblown stranger

Tucking in your toddler just like every other night
Your heart will kick you hard. He's a full-grown stranger.

When you come from the party, barefoot through the fog
You will see him marching, your rag-bone stranger

Lost in the squaredance of your limping mind
You will wake to the whistle of the rhinestone stranger

When you're deep in the rebellion of the clapping fools

The one who comes for you will be the best-known stranger

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