Before Irish Raised

Staring ahead, the Chicago train pulls in
Not the same before, another shot of gin
I’ve been tired before, ages of sleepless nights, blame it on the insomnia
Down another shot, lives of wasted talent of sisters on a day
A flower wilts, stumble through another day of-

People fly, the trains pull out, starry night above
A sister left behind, another shot, with love
Another cold February, another misplaced birth a month before, aged-old glove
Take another look, lives of wasted minds of sisters on a day
A flower wilts, stumble through another day of
A slow movie, playing back to me
The person I used to be