Story 2

Godsmack is how the wind feels On the face of Mike Winfield On his way home from the bar where he works nights The worst nights Don't nobody tip right And between the marriage offers and the fist fights And if another motherfucker touch his wrist trying to pull him in to whisper He ain't making it to midnight Don't they know he got a lighter in his pocket A matchbook in his sock And a block full of charred skeletons Closeted begging to get out? He paused cause he's scared of airing out the thoughts He can taste it in his mouth, the sulfur and bitter carbon Hearing all the burning bodies shout But no, that was a full lifetime ago And nobody ever has to know He has never told, well, except Ronald But that don't count, he was sweet and exactly What he needed him to be at the time Wine and candlelight and nice texts at lunchtime Why had he not called Ron back? Guess there just wasn't a spark, ha! No, no, mustn't joke about these things Wouldn't want to disappoint Doc Clark So many hours on the couch So many buried memories that take So many tears to get them out Water hadn't never been a friend, hold up Where had he seen that car before? Blue Acura, dent on the left rear fender Back again the sense of Déjà vu, strange things you Never shake when you wake up in recovery But suddenly noticing ash is covering his head 'Cause it's raining from the sky Dials home on his cell phone and gets no reply What the fuck? Where is the babysitter that he overpays? Body takes over and brain becomes disengaged Michael is running, his house is three blocks away Adrenaline compensating for change in age Since the last that he ran it, God dammit Mike knows he gotta get home fast as he can Looks up in the sky, glow's familiar Knows those families, died with similar Awnings and on and on, he keeps going Hits the corner just as he hears the explosion Screams comes from the house, "Did you get them out?" Mike asking the crowd that gathered round Tears running down his face There's that familiar taste He wishes it would take him to another place Son and his baby girl in his home And he can't believe that it's gone in a cloud of smoke And he's choking and running forward And hoping against hope that he might find them alive and well But he knows the results too well And he knows that fooled himself And he keeps walking toward the house, rather what house is still left No intention of stopping, letting the smoke take his breath Some strong arm rocks him aside, Mike falls to the ground and cries "Why won't you just let me die?" "Why won't you just let me die?"