Brighter Days

By Patrick Kozub

In the dining room there’s a tar-stained couch
I stretch my back like a half-slept hound
Four AM I walk to work,
where seven dollars is all time’s worth

the folks out here, well, they’re okay
dream out back from their upturned crates
they ain’t waitin for luck it seems,
just a cigarette for a chance to breathe

when we come to brighter days….
and if they come a little late…
if it aint all it coulda been, we’ll be okay…
we’ll be okay

seven live in this teardown house
we haunt the porch as the sun goes down
we trade our time to make the rent
a casino night’s a safer bet

the power cuts off once a month
and the banker fees, well they don’t leave much
they keep you sore, bleed you red
till there ain’t no point to cash your checks

if we come to brighter days….
and if they come a little late…
if it aint all it coulda been, we’ll be okay…
we’ll be okay

I won’t wait around another year, It’s pullin me apart,
if I don’t leave now, I ain’t gettin’ out alive…

when we come to brighter days….
and if they come a little late…
well we’re doin the best we can, anyway…

when we come to brighter days….
and if they come a little late…
if it aint all it coulda been, well that’s okay…
we’ll be okay