Return of the......

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NEVER JUST ONCE

Delayed
To breakaway
Lingers from yesterday.
A host
Of ghosts
Raised to ensure that I can pay.
Fleet feets meet
Tiller of wheat,
Or so the story goes,
What's known
Won't hold,
Credit untold,
No beauty beside the rose.
So turn tail and runned out
This stop I been gunned out
Left by sheriff
Who'll tariff
My heart and my soul.
So remember to roll
Through said curfew
And plan a date
To get away;
Cause' tomorrow's already dying
If you made it today's yesterday.
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