Mattie

Lit on the corner bar, well within my credit zone, won’t end like my Da, people say pay your dues, never drink alone, don’t let yourself stew, you can play La La, who needs more loans, they only go so far, even with my blood, tissue and bone, I still ride the flood, your hair is silver tar, Saints shake out their ‘phones, something inside says Nah, a trail too well used, I won’t leave this home, wagons circle around you, mine is a lucky star, never lights on bum notes, this place is my Spa, you my inner host.