Came from the Park
Had plays written on their North Face sleeves
Owen only knew extended U from the library
On back fields sweat and rubber fly
Snapping jaws call to poor Owen to try
Cut his hair into a square pick out colors for the rivalry
Through the halls hear the groaning of old Cagey Owen
Saying “what check out counter magazine sold you that dream?”
“All your men and models and bodies from a bottle”
“I’m on nobody’s team.”
Tried for a handeye on a smaller scale
25 ½ bringing in old folks mail
Field the shed with books on shred and pictures of Sting.
Studied up like it was nuclear fission
Broke a string at the battle audition
Some bong lords ripping barre chords won the whole thing.
Through the town hear the groaning of old Cagey Owen
Punk rock never did dick to keep me warm
All your studs and bristles, political dismissal
A bullshit uniform.
But now he’s older
Looks over his shoulder
“Did I do that right?”
Well I call that a quarter life.
Broke and broken
Beaten down, but still hopin to be young one more night.
Cos all that he gave up, it’s saved up made him uptight
Bitter and mean and so Cagey.
Through the years hear the groaning of old Cagey Owen
Saying “is it too late for me to have some fun?”
“So many arms would’ve held me I could’ve been so happy.”
God, what have I become?