Son, you're a mystery
All your precious words don't mean so much to me
You were on the side of us
All your thoughts aligned with my deep poetry
And you would accompany
Every weekend walk up and wish
All the days of chastity
All the nights that teenager prayed
I tried not to criticize
You must go the way you're at and bring on flight
Maybe you're a victim to
Maybe this is helping cause we all love you too much
What is it you asked me for?
You convinced me I was hopeless
All your wedding metaphors
All your well worn sexless posture
Holier than Jesus Christ
They came a long way just to touch your gun
But you never turn away
Him or her or them or gay or black or brown
So convincing for a while
Mighty was your stack of pages
Every word you ever spoke
Was condemned by government agents
I don't mind (Mind, mind, mind)
It's hard to be kind (Kind, kind, kind)
Everybody finds a way
Printer was my sympathy
I was so obsessed with doing things my own way
Then one day you realize
I don't stand for anything, I'm fading away
I remember your bad dream
You patrolled with that most confidence
When I finally gave myself
You respond with melting patience
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