Copper in the Slots

That stain on the sidewalk there?
That used to be someone I knew
Twenty-three and dreaming
Twenty-three and glowing
He can’t hear us
Where’d the money come from?
Where’d the clothes come from?
You’re not welcome here ever again
Take your venom with you
No parade
No facade
No bouquets
No black cars
No redeeming values
No remorse
No song
Not the first, not the last
Just a ripple in the tide
Laying blame, attaching guilt
Won’t remove it from our minds
If pressed, I might say
That we all deserve to feel ashamed
Look at your hands, they’re the same as mine
So soiled you can’t see color