The River Rushes (To Screw MD Over)
John Dwyer
Expertly, the river flows
Eventually, it takes me home
The weeping willows upon the shore
Are memories of lovers gone
And I don't think these things are real
They might be hints of used to be
Like lovers lusting on the breeze
Or fuckers burning out their knees
Waiting as themes are freed
From faces in a memory
I can say "Ain't it silly"
For remembering what used to be