Cold September Day
The Scales of Justice didn't tip my way,
I figure from the dues I've had to pay.
While thumbing down to Shaky Town
I thought I turn my luck around,
At a drugstore in Salinas on a cold September day.
The Wheel of Fortune, rolled out the door
With the owner tied and ordered to the floor.
As from the till the larger bills
I grabbed until my pockets filled,
A gunshot woke the morning on that cold September day.
My Guardian Angel flew out of town
As my body wretch’d and tumbled to the ground.
There close to death I came to rest,
A sheriff's bullet in my chest.
My ticket back to prison on that cold September Day.
Never caught a glimpse of Lady Luck.
But that ain't going to make me pass the buck.
After 3 to 10 in Folsom pen
And wondering where my life has been,
I walked out in the sunlight on a cold September day.
The Horn of Plenty wouldn’t blow my song,
But somehow through these years I’ve got along.
While never holding nothing more than
Inside straights and hotel doors,
I'll sit out while you dance with life this cold September day.
Dedicated to Guy Clark, Townes Van Zandt and John Prine.
Copyright © Ken Rone | Year Posted 2021
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