Trouble

up there another man, working
they’ve put me aside, resting
I used to work at night, chanting
well I don’t anymore, ain’t it saddening?
how can it be? I’m too old to be this young
how can it be? This country needs my bones in the ground
all I got is a six-stringed soul shovel and the power to wield it
trouble
with another man, dancing
I saw her Saturday night, her lips were trembling
how can it be? I’m too old to be this young
how can it be? This country needs my bones in the ground
all I got is a six-stringed soul shovel and the power to wield it