A pheasant's flight falls short A firework feathers A lone report, no reply Cold and wrapped up and released A recurring black-eye in the east You deny Now we're strangers in the midst Of a plot with all-too-familiar twists Why should I? Dogs are barking kids are swearing fire hydrant's pouring out the side Delivery trucks with engines running doubled parked While traffic can't decide I wish I was a photographer with a camera that would never tell a lie Two crescents in a sling Two halves that make a ring To divide Now we trade these sorry blows Two fighters who should have retired years ago But can't say goodbye