A Man of The Past
A man of the past, a face in the window,
A replaying old film, a hymn in the class of killed does.
Distant a vision, a hope for what was once,
Now a bitter light is on the tip of the shrewd tongue.
Falling for a lie, the truth was in the eye,
Seeing what was real was a deal made for the man who would never lie.
So honesty is frozen and his soul cold on the glass,
A reflection of the past, He seeks a truth that will outlast.
A truth from you, the truth of your ruined clasp.