Skull

the happy times are over
for my tambourine and I

we’ll go no more a-roving
through the fields of P.E.I.

quiet days have fallen
on harder stuff than men

and everywhere that Mary goes
her mouth is full of Zen

my mouth is full of money
my courage flickers on

and I feel like a troubadour
against the drums of dawn

a vasty peace encumbers me
my heartache shrinks to null

there’s nothing left to rail against
when you are just a skull