JB Writes Too

Exile on Your Street 08/09/09

I have been in exile
for nearly two years
some of it purposeful
some of it by response
Countless times
I was there for you
In your hour of need
Around the clock
I listened to you moan
Yet, inside I was ill
In need of help
And where were you?
All I saw was dust
Once the lip service machine
shut down
I walk now
alone
And I stare up at you
As you sit perched
In your ivory towers
Never at fault
Never making mistakes
I hope you are happy?
Shrouded in lies
Like the song says:
”Hang the DJ, Hang the DJ, Hang the DJ”
Yes, I could hear you chant
As the judgement fell upon me
But now?
The clocks spin and turn around
And as the ink
fades from the blacklist
I hear the phone ring
“Grace us with your presence -
Entertain us joker
Make us laugh
laugh
laugh
with your stories of sadness
yes
make us
laugh
you know you can”
Two years now
and the blacklist
is home
I’ve found the sun
from where it truly begins
Excuse me then
If I conveniently ‘forget’ you…
“hang the DJ
hang the DJ
hang the DJ”