Junky with a gun by Theo Ray poem/song
Ain’t life fun
—Ain’t life fun
—Daddy was a junky
—junky with a gun.
I was born a poor son
—playin’ with the bugs
—livin’ near the factory
—shipping all the jobs
—college was for winners
and CEO gods.
Ain’t life fun
—Ain’t life fun
—Daddy was a junky
—junky with a gun.
—So alone
—So alone.
Evicted from a shack
that I once called home.
Ain’t life fun
—Ain’t life fun
—Daddy was a junky
—junky with a gun.
—Ask you for a slice of bread
—you cast me a stone....
strapped to my ankles
—to the bottom I go!
Ain’t life fun
—Ain’t life fun
—Daddy was a junky
—junky with a gun.
(2010)
If anyone would like to hear the musical
version of this poem, simply go to SOUNDCLOUD.COM
and type in the search engine: T. J RAY
and next to the name the TITLE QF THE SONG:
"JUNKY WITH A GUN."
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