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Life at 61

Life at 61

She sends me cash so I can call
Even though money’s kinda tight
I stare at these concrete walls
Thinking of her most every night
Wish I could put her in the black
Bid this place one last goodbye
But I just keep coming back
Can’t seem to make it work outside

Now I’m thirty years away
From a kid brought to his brink
But I can still see his face
Staring me down above the sink
They say there’s still plenty of time
But I think my race is run
Can’t seem to make my reasons rhyme
Can’t start a life at 61

They let me out on parole
I found a job in no time flat
And the feeling warmed my soul
But I still felt kinda sad
Another binge and DUI
Then I hatched myself a plan
Drove my truck across state lines
Model prisoner, a broken man

Now I’m thirty years away
From a kid brought to his brink
But I can still see his face
Staring me down above the sink
They say there’s still plenty of time
But I think my race is run
Can’t seem to make my reasons rhyme
Can’t start a life at 61

Now I’m thirty years away
From a kid brought to his brink
But I can still see his face
Staring me down above the sink
They say there’s still plenty of time
But I think my race is run
Can’t seem to make my reasons rhyme
Can’t start a life at 61

Don’t think I’m coming out this time
Can’t start a life at 61

Copyright © 2014 by Chris M. Wilcox

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