Quinten Darrow

Please don't shoot me mister, I'm just a fat little kid.
I shouldn't have to die today for something you did.
Mom says "take the trash out", Dad, "feed the dog".
Please don't shoot me mister, I got to dissect Miss Lilly's frog.
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Dog Tags

Most will never know the reason, sense nor rhyme.
Not worth a plug nickel, a little bigger than a dime.
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You peed on my carpet and you pooped on my floor.
For some reason at first, you were scared of the kitchen door.
Once you slobbered on my ex and boy she pitched a fit.
I still recall the day I picked you up, though Ashley wanted a pit.
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Rock & Roll Never Forgets

I'm just a working man, pretty much all I've ever been.
Most of the time it's done with a smile, maybe a grin.
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Son of Oak
Watching the budding leaves as they dance in the wind.
Like some long lost family tree, they seem to be all akin.
Long as I remember I have have been drawn to a tree.
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You don't, though once you did. Now those feelings I keep hid.

That means not that they're gone. For to you, I'm eternally drawn.
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Dog and I just sittin on the couch minding our own. While I'm staring out the window. She's chewing on a bone.

It's an April afternoon, and the TV's showing the Sunday matinees. When a commercial comes on, low and behold, they're advertising chevrolets.
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Long before we were cursed, by carrying one in our pocket or purse.

When lunchtime would roll around, I'd drop in a quarter and hear that clinking sound.
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Clickety-click clickety-click, place a penny on the railroad track.

Esso before Exxon, Burger Boy, Masons and just that one red light.
Steel cleats, drainage pipe, sounds from Peay on a summer night.
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My bite beat my bark, I would act on a lark. Can't get out of my own way.

For I've been thinking, that I was shrinking. Life seems to be in disarray.
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One thing I proclam above all to be true.
These years, I've never not been captivated by you.
If a chance to forget, might I would try.
Impossible, for I'll be enamored still after I die.
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Like that one weird branch curved round the trunk, drawn to the sun.
Longing for something to make you think, a little fear with your fun.

A jukebox with a song you once heard while fast asleep.
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Though my love could not mine chosen make stay.
I once had a heart, I gave it away.

For what good be love with not one's liberte.
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I'm forever fightin with the bulldog for my share of the covers.
The way that dog treats my leg, you'd think we were lovers.

Damn don't my wife looks good in that new orange night gown.
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