Your bodies up for rent,
It’s been a tough day,
All your dollars have been spent,
You best be on your way.
What happened to you?
What happened to you?
I’ll never forget your face,
That lonely place,
Those charcoal eyes,
And the stifled cries.
Things will get better,
Things will get better.
Walking down the empty road,
Smiling in your little leather boats,
Bottle of whiskey for a friend,
Your hands swinging loose.
What happened to you?
What happened to you?
I’ll never forget your face,
That lonely place,
Those charcoal eyes,
And the stifled cries.
Things will get better,
Things will get better.
You travelled far to long,
Burnt all your roots,
Tried to sing a song,
Ended up all wrong.
What happened to you?
What happened to you?
I’ll never forget your face,
That lonely place,
Those charcoal eyes,
And the stifled cries.
Things will get better,
Things will get better.
© Michael Moorcroft August 13th 2010
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem