irish coffee and the spanish jig

[inwardsinging]

it says yes.
oh my, how did it come to this?
this feeling inside;
i can't hide in the hills
for long.
it's coming like a
mercen'ry squad,
putting life on the line,
in a line
and the blade falls through.

riding a white horse,
the bearer of bad news
strode in, smiling
with his blue silk cape.
a shout from the crowd,
yellow years are flung
and the day is close
at hand.
it says true,
what to do? what to do?
who knows how to deal?
"i know how" is
a whisper through the grass.
i can't.
i shouldn't.
i might.
i won't.
i should.
i don't want to.

...i did

©2006 Kevin McNally