Wednesday, October 3, 2012

The Ballad of Marcus Dupree

Burned rubber on the green green grass
Airborne into the light unknown
Covered in old Mississippi Mud Pie Clay
He sits at home looking for love

Someone to hug
Without a pick pock
Someone to love
Without a traveling bone

Given any Friday, Saturday or Sunday
Taking it all in like a Christmas Tree
Glittered from head to toe
In stickers and in rings

From a tiny town with very little
From a scar that had overgrown
Ball was the only glue that stuck
And he was the their streak of luck

All he wanted was a friend
One he could count on
Like you; like me but never again

His smile and laugh are contagious
But his fear is driving him home
Back to Phily Miss
Back to hit or miss

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