Faking Dylan #VIII


Close the window, close the door

Shut up the cold from off our floor

And act like you’ve been there before

I cannot take it anymore


The tax preparers have their way

Like it was any other day

She pulls his hair to make him stay

While his heart wanders far away


Look on the spreading chestnut tree

The shady bench for you and me

We’d sit and look and then we’d see

McCabe, McGruder and McGhee


I wouldn’t cry for anyone

Nobody I owe that much fun

I spend my days beneath the sun

Another line and then I’m done


I said there’d be another one.

copyright 2017

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