"Trotting Down the Line"

Sharp as a tack
That’s been worn thin by time
On a shoe
On a horse
Trotting down the line

The blind rider he whips
As his wife stays home and cries
But the horse thinks nothing of it
Trotting down the line

They ride past the bakery
Where the baker has died
Tape covers the entrance
And his blood reeks of fresh pie
And the horse thinks nothing of it
Trotting down the line

There’s a house with two children
Who were playing outside
One shot the other
With his toy 45’
The ambulance driver, the one
Truly punished for this crime
But the horse thought nothing of it
Trotting down the line

They pass the old church
The altar covered with grime
The priest talks like Dylan
And spits up at the sky
“Desolation Row” is written
On the burnt-out neon sign
And the horse thinks nothing of it
Trotting down the line

They pass the hospital, empty
But for the police who waste time
As they smoke their finest cigarettes
And drink their reddest of wine
While out in the fields
The farmer is strangled with twine
But the horse thinks nothing of it
Trotting down the line

They pass me at the gate
Leaving the ghost town in my mind
I see a burning tear
Stream from the rider’s glazed eyes
I gravely take his ticket
“Great weather,” I lie
And the horse thinks nothing of it
At the end of the line





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