My childhood is buried there
In the dusty red soil

Forgotten ribs
Deep in the ground
Made for music,
But now they will never make a single sound

I practiced each night
To spell those words
That would bring me to my future
Or so they told me

I was naïve
And I was scared
So I picked the flowers
And laid them there
In words like love, and happiness
To earn a point or two for you
But the tally boards ignored
When accusations are believed

And Satan lives in all of us
But you just didn’t see
Or maybe it was care
Enough to really know what happened