he rises long before dawn
just to face another day
a boxer’s caught in the ropes
punch drunk in his own way

Holy Jesus,
I don’t know how
he does this

the hot steam rises
from that same old broken cup
I remember how it burns his hand
as he hopes for some better luck

Holy Jesus  I don’t know how he does this
over and over  again

his road is so well traveled
he might as well drive it blind
the miles pass like the sunsets
in the mirror behind him

the years keep on rolling by
like so many falling leaves
dropping from the sky
that one day will be calling him back home

Holy Jesus  I don’t know how he does this
over and over  again

this ain’t no deperate prayer
I’m hoping he can say
no , its just a worn out legacy
til he passes away

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