I used to smoke cigarettes, breathe that Bad Stale Air.

I used to do a lot of things with no pride and little care.

It’s part of life regardless, been through what I learned.

Those mistakes I don’t dwell on, saw many shadows burned.

It may have looked confusing however please no good to dwell.

There is value in remember but the seeds of shame don’t sell.

Don’t know where I’m going but this life it has been real.

Even when I don’t recall, where I made my way by feel.

Dennis Mantin

The rains have left for sunshine.

It is cool for late in May.

Her voice it rings in my head.

Like it did all yesterday.

Some days are better than others.

Some nights are cool and still.

And if I had my druthers.

There’d be peace amidst tranquil.

It’s payday at the Gulag… There are smiles raining down.

The dealers here, peddling dreams. Anticipation is all the sound.

It’s chaos until midnight. When Cinderella hears a moan.

She was in the Masters dark room, where she thought they were alone.

It’s over like it started. Alarm clocks ring at dawn.

We move like it’s all over… It’s just the money that’s all gone.

She had a voice like mother… with a low sweet cadence drawl.

The kind that makes one shudder like a noose before the fall.

I searched for strength to hold back. I didn’t know how or what.

She caught me in that moment where I tried and failed to shut.

I wasn’t sure her motive, however I felt that it was planned.

I lost my will to say goodbye and then I lost my will to stand.

I left things as they started, all bright eyed and confused.

I left alone with my life more black and blue than bruised.

Mad Willie is giving stock tips.

Mad Willie wants it rich.

He gave it up for love and fam.

And fame which is a bitch.

Mad Willie he tells me stories.

Mad Willie makes me howl.

He has what I’d call unique views.

But he’s throwing in the towel.

No more work for Willie.

The big score will come in.

He has it all and keeping faith.

Let the leisure time begin!

There’s a stress that’s in my throat now: I try to call it out by name.

And has shown over time to me. That after, I’ll never be the same.

There is no rhyme or reason. Like the Nile can’t find the source.

I know it came from someone… You? Yes! Of course of course.

I’ve been searching for this feeling… The kind I get when I’m alone.

And if I need to reach out… I’m sure your hands are on the phone.

Don’t you take it personal now. Cause you know I’ve had enough.

Please tell me about your feelings and all that really high-brow stuff.

There’s no moral to this story. Few winners can be found.

Just the world seems topsy-turvy, and Love is losing ground.

Wicked Wanda’s telling stories and none of them are true.

She has her Heroes riled up and they’re coming for me and you.

Now I can’t say I’m worried because I’ve dealt with this before.

You see I knew her older sister and her Mother I adore.

But for you I’d make provisions, set affairs and say goodbyes.

When Wanda’s on the war path, there’s no running from those lies.

The success it came so early, in that spotlight was big love.

They lined up and smiles pearly, to help when push would come to shove.

The youth it is the first to go. Like smiles in the rain.

You never learned to handle ‘NO!’ There’s a softness in your pain.

Now you’re a little older, standing crying in the shade.

No courage to get bolder, such a shame you had it made.

There are lessons in your story. There’s a winners/losers card.

If no pain is in your glory, the lessons learned are hard.

Tis early here at crow piss; its darkest before the dawn.

Been dreaming about her beauty, and a smile she had on.

Time is somehow fleeting, on a race to God knows where.

I’m just naked in the shadows, with a calm yet distant stare.

Might sound like I’m complaining, I’m just searching for more sleep.

There’s a laughter in the distance; followed by a gentle weep.