That Moon Again

 That Moon Again

 

 

Red-Winged Blackbird sittin’ on a fence

His whole life makes perfect sense

Eat when you can, sing when you might

Fly all day; sleep all night

 

C

There’s that moon again       

It followed me all the way home

Shining like a long-lost friend

There’s that moon again

 

Old red pickup rollin’ down the road

Bent and swayed from years of load

Wired on parts, colored in rust

Coughing and creaking and kicking up dust

 

C

There’s that moon again

It followed me all the way home

Bright and steady now and then

There’s that moon again

 

I used to have a dog; a dog named Ted

Only knew one trick, lying in bed

I used to yell at Ted to get out of my way

When old Ted died, I cried all day

 

c

There’s that moon again

Follows me all the way home

Ever there in thick and thin

There’s that moon again

 

Ain’t much a man can count upon

But that old moon keeps crawling along

Ain’t no nova, ain’t no star

Me and that moon is what we are

 

C

There’s that moon again

Followed me all the way home

Staying till the very end

There’s that moon again

 





Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Where is Jesus

  Where is Jesus     I have lived long.  I have cried. I have been alone forever.  I have lied. No confession or reason why, But where is Jesus and where am I?   Clouds form greasy in the south. I should get my ass inside and shut my mouth. Rain is coming.  See the sky? Where is Jesus and where am I?   I’d tell you I am lonely but that doesn’t get me love, And pity doesn’t do it anymore Just a bit of mercy for the things I’m guilty of, A taste of love before I find the door.   I see trouble on the rise. Its shadow is familiar to my eyes. I lay low when I get high. Where is Jesus and where am I?   I need something I cannot see. There is a hollowness that pokes inside of me. Not to be rude.  Don’t mean to pry. But where is Jesus and where am I?    
Read more

Blessed Are

  Blessed Are                ©2025JackDeremiah                                Celia struts the streets in giant hats and sparkled shoes Tommy’s worn the same toupee since nineteen ninety-two Donnie knows the Earth is flat and promises he’s right Blessed are the comfortable, for they have won the fight   Bobby mumbles poetry that won’t be understood Jane can see the future; it just does her no good Jimmy thinks his cape makes him invisible at night Blessed are the unseen, for they are given sight   C Don’t lend a hand to a normal man, he don’t need a thing Befriend the different, seek the odd, and the vision that they bring Each human is a work of art; there is no wrong or right Blessed are the cracked, for they let in the light   Sean says he talked to God, an...
Read more