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Almost
When I the bottom stair
You were your gray hair
It had so long
Since I'd been

And the girls,
By the pool, they protest
The around their necks,
But our were overseas,
And we all know 'bout the hive and the bees.

Almost
With an branch and a dove
You were beating on a rug
With bible and your wedding band
Both hidden on the TV

And the wind blew
Every father fell
Off the county
While the dogs were snow
All our had sunk in a trunk
Of clothes

home,
We got on our new street,
And your grieving girls all died in sleep,
So the all went unfed,
A dream of bones all piled on a bed

And the cops care,
When crackhead built a boat
And said, "Please, I go,
May our only honored
Be the kinship of the kids and the squad"