The End of the Road

It was just a sign on the road
Didn't say nothing about journey's end
Don't see how someone who never
    got started
Suddenly got too old to begin again
Reason's don't matter now as much
     as the where
Story's one so often been told
The going don't matter as much as
     the getting there
To the last place in this world you'll
      ever have to hold
Now some might call it bad character
I'll allow that's not completely unjust
You can call it misfortune if you're
     feeling more kindly
That left me someone you can safely 
     mistrust
They say no one ever sets out to end
      up this way
I don't recall ever setting out at all
You can sing a song so long you become its sadness
Walk the high wire long enough you're bound to fall


Down at the end of the road
You don't have to wonder anymore
Down at the end of the road
Nobody's keeping score
Down at the end of the road
There's no headstones on the graves
Down at the end of the road
Are the ones who couldn't be saved

I always wondered what people did in places 
     like this
Even now I still don't really know
I'm still the one walking at night all alone
      down your street
Wondering who lives in the houses with
      the warm windows all aglow
And what did they have to do to get there
And what was so good about it that
     they stayed
Was it really just because they worked
      harder than me?
Or did they know a god who answered them 
       when they prayed?
Did their children always love them?
Would they love them less if they were poor?
A lighthouse is just the loneliest sight
When you're drifting away from the shore


Down at the end of the road
You don't have to wonder anymore
Down at the end of the road
Nobody's keeping score
Down at the end of the road
There's no headstones on the graves
Down at the end of the road
Are the ones who couldn't be saved


I had thoughts, but I didn't know how to say them
Held some cards, but I didn't know how to play them
I had debts, didn't know how to pay them
Found some things, but I must have mislaid them
There were dragons, and I tried to slay them
There were trusts, and I guess I betrayed them


There was a woman, of course
There always is in these tales that we tell
I wish I could say that she didn't understand me
But the truth is she understood all too well
And everyone's afraid of loneliness
But you know, there's some things worse
The thing with you she said once to me
Is you make feeling good like some kind of curse
If I don't really like it out here
That's not because there's all that much I miss
Every time I'm tempted to put back the pieces
I think of your goodbye kiss


And down at the end of the road
You don't have to wonder anymore
Down at the end of the road
Nobody's keeping score
Down at the end of the road
There's no headstones on the graves
Down at the end of the road
Are the ones who couldn't be saved

An angel is someone with wings
Who flies around all day and night
A sun is a star that's close enough
To turn the nighttime into light
To live in the bosom of Abraham
Is to adorn yourself with diamonds
     and pearls
Now everyone just keeps on looking
     younger
In him there's some small part of me

       made beautiful
To me, especially the girls
My son told me onetime Daddy


We're all made of stars and black space
Even if it's so hard to trace
If nobody cares where you're at
I guess that's one way of being free
You carry on too long like that
And that's all you'll ever be


Down at the end of the road
You don't have to wonder anymore
Down at the end of the road
Nobody's keeping score
Down at the end of the road
There's no headstones on the graves
Down at the end of the road
Are the ones who couldn't be saved


It was just a little adobe church
Where mass was never said any more
With crosses in a lonesome little cemetery outside
And candles burning on a simeple altar up above the dirt floor
I only saw a picture of it in a book this one time
But it sure looked like holy ground
When the time comes if I can only find my way back there
That's where I'd like to lay me down
Going's another thing I never got around to doing
Never made it all that far from home
But you can't really measure the distance in miles
When where you wind up is all alone
I'm not saying I didn't have my fair share of sorrows
I'm not saying I didn't bring on some myself

I'm not saying I won't still be
         here tomorrow
I'm not saying I won't be
          somewhere else
I'm just saying there's not too 
     much to worry about
Not even this rain coming down
Sometimes the rivers might rise
   and the world might flood
But so far it's never drowned


Down at the end of the road
You don't have to wonder anymore
Down at the end of the road
Nobody's keeping score
Down at the end of the road
There's no headstones on the graves
Down at the end of the road
Are the ones who couldn't be saved

Neighbors

I've only seen her once or twice
Though every day she sits closer to me than
   my wife, and longer
And the wall that separates us is not as high
I know this about her, though:
Her husband left her, and he's remarried,
  and on a carrier in the gulf
He won't be home for Christmas, which
  hurts her nonetheless, for the kids will be
  disappointed

One of whom has a learning disability, and recently underwent surgery on his eyes
She has cancer, and a lot of friends who look out for her
And the way she speaks to her son and daughter on the telephone is quite beautiful
She won't take chemotherapy or radiation, believing natural ways to be best
Though she did give them her breast
And she's probably younger than I am
She prays, of course
Etiquette demands that I leave unacknowledged that which I can't help but overhear
Yet I shudder every time she slams the drawer
And I'm not sure which part is unspeakable
If these are not words for a poem
Then neither are they words for a life

Mercy

Kitten licks my plate
Life is gentle and careless
Hungry and growing

After the Funeral

We got up as always

And went to the bar

It rained and rained

That day

And when it stopped

The sun shone through the glass

And lit the beer

So that it looked

Rich and ripe

I thought

If you sat in that bar long enough

 You could find out everything you needed to know

Ragamuffin

So I was dressed like a clown for death when he showed again
And at his feet understood immediately his scorn for finery
And need to make mock of it, so close to my own
Knowing always his comfort in uniformed cohesion
Vowed anew to hide in plain sight among the tatterdemalion many
Distinguished but not standing out, never unawares