deeper while I'm digging to get out

The beginning of last time was complicated, yes
soiled because no one had put their foot forward
fast enough to claim aggressor, captor, victim, love

In those old westerns where the mighty herd of cattle
neither leads the hero back home nor betrays him
they just stand their ground and watch, with cow eyes

Somehow, though, I am riding off into the lonely night
riding hard and facing forward and taking the reins
however loosely they might flail in my grip

It is one of those nights, with a black and blue sleeve
cast over the rest of the set, this diegesis speaks
about these little things and nothing new

Given everything is blaring in this light
it still seems hard to understand, and I wish
I was Loretta, because at least I could sing

In that burning, sad way she has a way
with making everything turn into a rodeo
night, blame it on the lover

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