Story 2

Godsmack is how the wind feels
On the face of Mike Winfield
On his way home from the bar where he works nights
The worst nights

Don't nobody tip right
And between the marriage offers and the fist fights
And if another motherfucker touch his wrist trying to pull him in to whisper
He ain't making it to midnight

Don't they know he got a lighter in his pocket
A matchbook in his sock
And a block full of charred skeletons
Closeted begging to get out?
He paused cause he's scared of airing out the thoughts
He can taste it in his mouth, the sulfur and bitter carbon
Hearing all the burning bodies shout

But no, that was a full lifetime ago
And nobody ever has to know
He has never told, well, except Ronald
But that don't count, he was sweet and exactly
What he needed him to be at the time
Wine and candlelight and nice texts at lunchtime

Why had he not called Ron back?
Guess there just wasn't a spark, ha!
No, no, mustn't joke about these things
Wouldn't want to disappoint Doc Clark
So many hours on the couch
So many buried memories that take
So many tears to get them out
Water hadn't never been a friend, hold up

Where had he seen that car before?
Blue Acura, dent on the left rear fender
Back again the sense of
Déjà vu, strange things you
Never shake when you wake up in recovery
But suddenly noticing ash is covering his head
'Cause it's raining from the sky
Dials home on his cell phone and gets no reply
What the fuck?

Where is the babysitter that he overpays?
Body takes over and brain becomes disengaged
Michael is running, his house is three blocks away
Adrenaline compensating for change in age
Since the last that he ran it, God dammit
Mike knows he gotta get home fast as he can

Looks up in the sky, glow's familiar
Knows those families, died with similar
Awnings and on and on, he keeps going
Hits the corner just as he hears the explosion

Screams comes from the house, "Did you get them out?"
Mike asking the crowd that gathered round
Tears running down his face
There's that familiar taste
He wishes it would take him to another place

Son and his baby girl in his home
And he can't believe that it's gone in a cloud of smoke
And he's choking and running forward
And hoping against hope that he might find them alive and well
But he knows the results too well
And he knows that fooled himself

And he keeps walking toward the house, rather what house is still left
No intention of stopping, letting the smoke take his breath
Some strong arm rocks him aside, Mike falls to the ground and cries
"Why won't you just let me die?"
"Why won't you just let me die?"