Sitting in a nowhere town at a notably nowhere coffee shop
Empty storefronts, empty hopes, this is the end of the road
The rare passing car with coffee low on the priorities doesn't stop
Dealt unfair hands, folded, their cards long ago showed;
There is a collage of children playing in my mind across the street
Yet the park is utterly void of any joyful yells of "You're it!"
Ancient voices of confederates sound off as they yell, "Retreat!"
And now it rests empty, alone, quiet, depressed and here I sit;
And I am distinctly at peace here in this sad, broken down town
My mind struggles to discover the logic of this misplaced content
Images of the town with the face of a clown, red lips, twisted frown
Even in this consciousness my mind cannot afford the rent;
Fortune has become a slave of the past here for generations
There will be no rebirth of this village, not in this thread of time
No train full of souls arriving to its out-of-the-way train station
Not since Armstrong's moonwalk and phone calls were a dime;
Then the realization as to why I am at home here in this place
I love the few souls who remain and the ones long departed
I love this town and the understatement that it is slow-paced
I love the sadness of the downtrodden and broken hearted;
It's the raw emotion that draws me here day in and day out
My soul hungers for honest and pure emotion of the heart
And this miserable town is simply bursting with it; no doubt
This is my new home, indeed, and this coffee shop, the start...
