Zebra - This Town Needs Guns

Caught forever on paper torn tethered

Time sends its regards from pictures

That never saw the light of day

Just tucked in a box and hoarded away

So that eyes could never gaze upon

Faces of old

Memories that I had longed to hold

So hold me now

That I am not strong enough to hold myself

I am old enough now to know better than

To bear my cross alone