Righteousness and staying alive  don’t always have that much in common—that’s why your common crook is living like a king—that’s why kings keep counting their gold—the straight forward path—on the square—somehow I slipped into the brambles & lived underneath the bridge—discarded refrigerator boxes—the straight & clear the untroubled glance—the short road from my heart to your ear passes over my lips—what’s the point of living if living the truth is a crime? what’s the point of sweet old age if you wasted all your time? when you draw the line drop the foot & turn your back & spin—there ain’t no point in trouble if there’s no peace in the win—no truth in the win—every bodies stretching out their days into the years—what’s the point of crying if you never count the tears?—and wonder—all you have to do is ask—the truth is served by honest folks—con-men dig their graves—you’re a fool to think it’s cool—tho’ you never have been saved—you didn’t need the savior—you didn’t hear the word—you shrugged your head & walked away—pretended you never heard—the good die young there’s a reason for that—more life ain’t all better life—put that in your hat—