An Old empty flagpole clanks in the wind

Well I was barely 13
And my momma told me
I need to be a company man
And bury my hands
In some dumb old machine

I’d blast the rust
Off the nuts
So we could use them again.
I’d go to high school to read
Their made up histories
And pay the bills
Working in some factory

Well the workers were all in a jam
Working for cigarettes and jim beam
Stand around bitching about the man
It’s the American dream.

So I packed up my bags
And ran for the west
All these smokestacks
became my sunset silhouettes
Rearview postcards
A widow pirouettes

Well I was barely 17
And my daddy told me
You don’t have to ride the same road twice
But the road is a job
But the road is a life

I’d blast the ruts
With the old man’s truck
So I could start again
I’d skip college to bleed
Find my own mysteries
Pay the Bill’s
Perking. refactory

Well the workers were all in a jam
Working for cigarettes and jim beam
Stand around bitching about the man
It’s the American dream.

When I drive by the busted windows
Of a life that could have been me
I see myself inside there looking out
Where I see
The busted tendrils
Some old pigeons
Graffiti

Another 13 year old boy
Wanting to be free

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