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Civilian
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James Kent
James Kent, son of a bitch You were my best friend When you set your head down on the train tracks Said “This is it” and closed your eyes My crushed soul, me and Bobby Boyd Were in the funeral home Sorting through the memory of a homeless man That moved into our home and made us whole
The reverend then turned to the crowd And asked if someone would share But nobody had a response, you see, because nobody cares
I find it odd that in death they comfort all your brothers When they couldn't care less Except the awful inconvenience of them splitting the check Because there's no panhandle pension He got what he gets and they get off the hook I hope they sleep some night
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com James Kent, hell of a man You had some substance You had some depth You gave us life again so we gave you somewhere to live Your whole name is printed in matte I read, my hands shake Beneath you a dash between the two dates That led me to stand where I am
The man in the morgue had done such a beautiful job Sewing you up and crossing your arms
I find it odd that in death They circle you with flowers and they tuck you in bed Where they tell you that they loved you But for twenty-five years you slept beneath a bridge Where you were dying of AIDS and smoking a crack pipe
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