Karloff-Colleton © 2006

There once was a man
with nothing left to prove.
He sat in his chair
and reviewed the City’s mood.
This day his eye
wanders ‘cross the street.
She’s in her yard
layin’ out in the summer heat.

And along comes trouble -
Chuggin’ ‘round the bend.
Like a long lost friend
Once again.

Next few nights
he’s churning up his bed.
His nerves go raw
as he stares at his best friend.
So he picks up the phone
and conjures up the past.
Lines up supplies
his conscience won’t outlast.

We just keep holding on, holding on.