Futile Man

Still too much I recall of them

gnawed out bones which the

mattock of time buried beneath

the pavement

And to wade in the shades won't

clear the air, won't erase the

stench of them dead

Will the solace be found from

the north of the ditch? Dug deep

with my own beaten shovel

For sure it's not in the notes of

the self-pity mean-Could it be at

the end of the double barrel?

The time is nigh

Until the end I'll deny that there

is sense in this life

I am what I am, a futile man

and till the end I'll deny that

there is meaning behind

I am what I am, a futile man

Now, hear my child this weight

will land on your shoulders-You

too wll pay this debt of despair

I'm not here to teach you or to

show you the way-It wouldn't

make any difference