Kings

Do you remember feeling small

And lost in all the trees high above our heads?

Rusted box springs and all the broken things

In our junkyard kingdom

We used to be kings

Do you remember feeling low

And getting high with the boys in the black light glow?

Flying down country roads

Always late for supper

But you need another upper to go

I let you go

Far enough away for everyone to say

How proud you had made them and you turned out right

Staring down the scope, your finger on the trigger

The ringing and the shimmer

Of the bullets raining nearer

And you remember feeling small

And lost in all the trees high above your head

The glistening of metal and rusted out barrels

The old rope and tire of a junkyard swing

We used to be kings