Holidays

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Your Hum V Jesus don’t cut it with me.
Your tear stained prayer books,
pious acts and sideways looks don’t touch my pain.
The demon in me plays addictions winning game.

And while you dine with your lunch bunch,
sip chardonnay and plan a warm beach holiday,
I sit inside the bus stop, waiting for the rain to stop,
dying for my next hit, and feeling like a piece of ----.

So when I show up, you gonna grow up,
walk up, cough up some loose change
and be Jesus in a real way? Let me eat and drink today?
Or will you just drive by while I’m contemplating suicide?

‘cause Jesus was a walking man.
He walked and talked and sat down
by the side of the road, in the ditch. That man wasn’t rich.
Jesus handed out life and fish.

That’s the Jesus I wanna know
that’s the one you gotta show me.
If you wanna reach me, teach me,
then you gotta touch me where it hurts.

And if my next score is what makes me tick,
it might make you sick, but it
might take me through another night.
Yeah, it aint right, I aint a pretty sight
but this is real life, so you gonna get real?

The good news, the upside
is that the will to survive
could arrive in your shaking hand.
Your slow step, your downturned eyes,
and your little sacrifice ... not much to you
but to me ...fish and life.

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