When I was a young boy,
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I went up to a hill
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And looked on to a spot that
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A parking lot would fill.
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I knew I would have no say
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In whether it was done.
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I looked on that spot and
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I wish I had a gun.
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When I was older
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I took her to my hill.
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The shopping mart security
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Couldn't find us there.
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It gave us a big thrill.
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Long ago, the family farm
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Would've hidden us from the stars,
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But yellow weeds & garbage heaps,
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Hid us from the cars.
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Now I sit on my hill,
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In a basement floor machine.
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Rich folks laugh,
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While the furnace burns,
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And this condo sits on me.
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Can't see any blackbirds,
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Can't see any clouds,
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The weeds are gone...
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And so is she.
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Rich folks choke on billowing smoke.
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And I found a new hill.
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-----------------
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My Hill
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| Murder By Death |
