Lzx - Ray Poem by James McLain

Forgotten I came in the mists of them.
Turning to the left to the right.
The print of a boot not to narrow or wide.
Gone it fits mine.
There were no eagles there.
Broken arrows lay around.
Most without hats exposed knowledge.
Useless to they whom before me came.
To young to drink.
To young to think.
When the rooster crows three bugles call.
Why is it always the seventh?
When I retire I will again live.
Erotic climate mixed with exotic girls.
Against wiser judgement.
Against common sense am I, Joseph black?
Don't trust the devil inside.