Writers Who Have To...: Fourth of July

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Friday, August 17, 2007

Fourth of July

It was near the time of the fourth of July
I was left standing high and dry

I had nothing left and nowhere to go
So I sat on a beach in Mexico
The tequila burned
The water churned
and the waves hit high
And I hoped that, maybe, I could touch the sky.

He strolled up to me
and held my hands in his grasp

He said, "baby lets move-
this place is getting old fast."

We drove outta there without a moment to spend
on times gone by and broken dreams to mend.
More tequila poured under the hot setting sun
life on the verge; reality undone.

I remember that day, it was the fourth of July
Somewhere in Cali the colors lit the sky
But there in the south it was only us and the moon
and I knew in time it would be over too soon.

Sometimes I wonder if I knew what I had
When the time turned good after being so bad
that wonderful time under the Mexican sky
Somewhere near the fourth of July.