I slipped and fell to find A decade had robbed me blind Deep wear in these soles serve to help remind A boy in a man's disguise: Heavy feet might be a sign That even he deserves a weekend No way this can hold The bottle emptied long ago A seed ill-thought I have sown Tilled and watered roots took hold On this flawed crop's yield you know you'll dine alone You have lost the alms that youth had bestowed Second-guess the choosing of this less traveled road But I can't get my mind to let loose of the certainty That the fruits of this family tree will not break from the serpentine Habits in life In lieu of the straight line Our lot is to ignore advice to wise-up Or our bodies will revolt. Bodies that can't know repose We never learn. We spurn the weekend No way this can hold A feud has pit sinew and bone As thief and foe to heart and hope As foe to heart and hope As foe to heart and hope And the spoils decorate this home