WRITING: Lyrics

Willie sings, and makes me even sadder than I am. Aiming words like bullets to the soft targets I have missed. Woefully, slowfully, notes tearing through muscle in keys that unlock the jailed heart within. Escaping to freedom, dragging a leg that was damaged in that last near fatal shootout. Hopping on horses that run to the beat and pound up the mountains away from the town. Passing the swing that is no toddler’s toy, passing the ladies that beckon and wink, nodding at church doors despite those within, I’ll ride with the outlaws to breathe once again.