Hand-Me-Downs:

Threadbare, With Corduroy Patches

And the young, they can lose hope 
'Cause they can't see beyond today,
The wisdom that the old can't give away.
Hey, constant recoil...
Sometimes life don't leave you alone.

It's a cop-out to say
   the wait
     drove me mad...
  I was already a wreck
   when she appeared.
I took the vermin's path;
        ended up alone
     just like before.

  The Yellow Sun retreated
        from me,
      taking with her
    warmth.  In rushed
  the chill of solitude
       and vacuum loneliness;
     weak willed,
   I did little to resist
 the bottle hanging over
    my head by a frayed thread...
  I found the carrot,
          got beaten by the stick.
   Oh, if
 I could have been just fun...

This behavior's not unique.
 I figured myself damned to
   end up alone, like I began:
single in Carrboro, stumbling
   blind rage, foolishness.
 Fuck or Fight.
Touch me, I'm Dick.

 I'm sober, again, now...
             everything has chains;
    absolutely nothing's changed.
 I cannot take back
    her entrance;
   cannot chase her out of my head.

  The lights are out on these
     quiet streets,
quiet dark houses where
    clear conscience sleeps.
  I tread lightly,
      listless,
           aimless,
     an insomniac mouse,
             alone
        just like before.

Today on to another today;
   but this place is not so
                       God forgotten?
First comes Love,
       then comes Pain...
    Such is the game.
   I accept my insignificance.

I've put away my sledgehammer
    and my wrecking ball.
   I will be okay; and
     I have faith—
    it's been said
           a million times over,
   "All you need is Love."