The storm is on its way.
The fog rolls in, to skin it clings,
And all it eats away.
The wind it roars
Through bone it bores
To strip away the sin.
Killers, thieves, and common whores
Never seen again.
So hurry home my wayward child
Soon the rain will fall,
The tide will rise up to the skies
And wash away us all.
I had to read to the bottom to get to this one, but well worth it. Love "Good Riddance". Very nice.
ReplyDelete