Broken Afternoon

sometimes you feel like a shame or like a ruse

a half cooked idea or a trick to be used

then sometimes you feel so lowly haunted and stark

waving in the wind like a flag that's torn apart

but we all walk blindy when we stagger and we strut

and we're all dealt the hands with the cards of our luck

and we all bow down silent and the words are awe struck

by the shameless light of the broken afternoon