Slum Baby
This life began on railroad ties
Far behind the church, we took in simple gifts from god
I should’ve left you where I found you
Blind boys in a steeplechase
on a dying horse aimed straight at hell
That year you met an awful man
he held you down so long
water filled your nose and lungs
they found him seventeen months later
they knew him by his teeth
and his car at the bottom of the Susquehanna
And I was the wind that blew you in, into their cells
safe within the prison walls
And you don’t read the letters from home
you’ve got people missing you
but to most you might as well be dead
We both knew you would never leave
unless it was to jail or war
we both knew you would never leave
but I’ll never darken your door