on the train

trying to shift my head

out of the dawn sun

slicing through the glass

as they witter on on on

& he said so I said

she said so I turned to her

& said what about…?

the struggles of the working poor

trying to make sense

out of the everyday

striving for jesus make the day

to knock soft on heavens door

hope for a place at the table

home for those worn out feet

& I would love them more

if there was a bottle between us

something to take

the edge off away

help me get into the zone

prepare me lord

help me earn my pay

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