I see worn out faces, tired feet in shoes,
Broken bottles, and dreams in a spoon,
I see hungry mouths, and bloodshot eyes,
Theres no room in the middle, no room in the sky.
All the wings have been clipped, every stitch shows,
I see angels and devils, together but all alone,
My eyes play tricks on me, I dont know whats real,
I've been caught under, the slow spinning wheel.
Everyone want the throne, but nobody stands up,
They just have the barmaid, come and fill up their cups,
I see a broken mirror, and a million sets of eyes,
They all look so different, but they are all mine.
And the swords have been drawn, looks like its time for war,
And everything is fair, when the blood hits the floor,
I see worn out faces, relentless dreams of the moon,
Empty pill bottles, and white lines of our doom.
And the empty wallets, try to pray to the lord,
The devil sings a song, as a one eyed troubador,
We all know fame and fortune, through the color T.V. screen,
But its turning black and white, theres no color inbetween
The sad and the happy, the stupid and the brave,
Good and evil, the sinners and the saved,
No theres no color in the middle, not anymore,
I cant tell if thats liquor, or blood down on the floor.
Blaine McCanless
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/no-color-in-the-middle-america/
