Lost Change

Every scrap stood against the concrete with that somber soft slime
The crimes of old whom never had a chance to shine
I never could tell how lost the dime stood
I never want the truth from the rusted fridge
Cold, clean, and distant, like a lonely dingy piece of a paycheck
That scrap never came to pass, it always dries sour
they yet still spoke about it
The fancy gadgets they cower behind like children

Don’t ever speak about a warm, close, ticket
We never had any loose drunk drought bitter
So the change stood plainly in the mirror
Deaf, lifeless, and extremely static
Had the movie played any louder, you would yasye how trajib they stained
Plainly and lonesome some way
As the tenant took their last, spe of change
And threw it away


Had they known His permanent currency, maybe they wouldn’t have to stay
So static and payed only in a single currency

What a limit they place
Upon the skulls of weeks of scheduled, static days
Keeping those cold ridged bars all the same

They’ll find out too late
Of the life He gave
Lost soldiers worshiping a golden grave
Struck at the mercy of their deaf,stiff veins