Excellent Returning son Mamma Cried by Walter L. Jones

I'd cry myself to sleep at night Fox hole and struggle to stay alive Woke by broom stick Under my bed I dive sireens wailing Echo I am alive You know I have And then again I have held the wonder of life Angel on my mind See the earth swallow And the burp Leaves me in As I push Just wild cry She is the style I write Into the willing As I tip starlight She finds the keys We sing in tune Room bounces Sand and dust Reflections on moonlight Streams of neon She says you know I have Then again I learned from the best More than an intern Hemingway bottle And Cuban romance Journalists they say Broke and drunk My wife looks at us and just shakes her head What a pair for sore eyes

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