We all face uncertainty
in these uncertain times
some face it stoically
some make up rhymes,

undecided?
I should be
if the world revolves
around you and
not around me,
see,
I'm certain
that's a rhyme
in an otherwise
uncertain time.

The clock will go forward soon
I'll take a quickstep back
might even try the foxtrot
and I'll be an 'alright Jack'

but it's still uncertain
the crystal ball is not tuned in
the moon's in the house of a neighbour
and my patience is wearing quite thin.

I want you to see
You who claim to love me
You who claim to save me
From that which I can't see
Ahead, but I know in my bones
I can't let bygones be bygones
Right now - I've worked a week for two
Or three, and I'm tired, and I have had too
Four weeks locked up through no fault of my own
And I am wearing close to the bone
And I'm dying on my own
I am not-crying on my own
I can't say I'm alone
When I'm out of the zone
Where the world is a stranger
And my sun turned from me in danger
As if I would **** him with my pallor
Because I asked for his light, in squalor
Or maybe just too young
And realising how much is wrong
And how much has been wrung
And how I have a limit to being strong
And how I loved too much
That I'm now sick of the loving, friendly, familial touch -
I did not realise how much I suffered
Until today's sweet sunny plans, by me, were scuppered.

heading home to memphis on the midnight train
back home to my roots start over once again
place i was raised that meant so much to me
home again once more to memphis tenessee

had enough of heartaches sorrow and the pain
heading home to memphis start over once again
back to all my friends and my family
be happy once again like i used to be

had enough of drifting till the sun goes down
each and every place each and every town
find someone to love raise a family
back home to my roots in memphis tenessee

you down
with dance and laughter
till disaster
strikes
is a white knight
on a steed
but take heed

The devil wears
ripped jeans
and sports a tan
but understand
underneath the six-pack
and muscles
lies hustler
not a man

The devil wears
his wit
like a written manuscript
has his lines so define
wraps you up
like you were twine

Don't you understand?

--The back-pasture fences, lay down
Opening up to more back-pasture, grasses
u n c o n t a in e d,
by fences,  laid down..

     only to be surrounded  in the distance
                 by more, back-pasture grasses..

And yes.. my beautiful Beloved--

       with its fences  also, laid down

You are a Thoroughbred, love.
Within your  gorgeous succulence
lies the open-field,  

of  beautifully-unending grasses,
  succulent.