The Speed of Sound

living life at the speed of sound,

it gets hard to remember what is real,

these disguises that I wear,

make it tough to know what I actually feel;

been moving so fast,

never had time to count the years,

I just keep on laughing in the rain,

so no one can see the tears;

there were so many women,

I always knew they’d go,

like falling autumn leaves,

when winter’s wind begins to blow;

waited for so long,

waiting for that special one,

like the darkness of the night,

waiting for the early morning sun;

the moment I saw you walking down the street,

I knew that one was you,

and though I never said it,

in my eyes you could see it too;

maybe it was a little too late,

I’d just waited for too long,

and when I finally found you,

I didn’t have the strength to be strong;

it’s so sad;

when you finally find one you could love,

only to find there’s nothing left to give,

and thoughts of what could have been,

is all you’ll ever have,

for the rest of the life you live./////

My Sister-In-Law is a Whore

my sister-in-law is a whore,

and the town drunk;

it wasn’t always this way;

I remember when she was young and beautiful,

not the tired, worn out, old woman she is now,

wild and free like the breeze,

full of laughter and excitement,

making the blood flow hot in every guy,

as she teased and captivated,

always the center of attention;

like a queen holding court

before her loyal subjects;

I knew my sister-in-law,

long before I married her sister,

and when the bar lights came on

at the end of the night,

I was right there with all the other hypnotized,

horny bastards, praying to be the one she went home with,

but time caught up with her,

as she refused to give in,

living each day for drugs, sex and rock n roll,

the laughter started sounding more like a cackle,

than some musical melody,

and no one had much tolerance,

for a loud, foul mouthed, old hag,

with spotted, yellow skin,

and rotten, missing teeth;

but every now and then,

I close my eyes and smile at the memories,

remembering that there was a time

when we were both much better;

and I realize just how much

I loved that drunken old whore.

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