we are all transients now

oh she would not know

standing there throwing her rose down

this strange man stood at the back

of her too young gone mothers funeral

oh she knows he used to hang around

but does not know understand why

the music she likes to listen & sing

the origins of her love of music

comes from the well we struck to find

those days when we were too young

playing each other’s records found

crate digging flipping through stacks

long sessions working through tracks

try this hear this listen to the groove

I was just another man passing through

the early days of her mothers life

one that she never got to know

& now never will

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