Saturday, October 10, 2009


Today I find lyrics Colby wrote. Or maybe it was a poem, but I believe these words were written for music. It is hard to tell when he composed this. All his notebooks are jumbled together, and there are scraps of paper with writing, music, lyrics, poems, mixed in with boxes of t-shirts and books and DVDs. Colby's handwriting didn't change much from the time he was about 14, so he probably wrote this sometime in the last ten years, but most likely in the last  2 or 3. I'm not sure if he was finished with this or not, but the words are so true to who Colby was, to what Colby believed, that I want to share them with you.

This is for the homeless, this is for the poor
This is for the people who don't love anymore
This is for the beggars. the forgotten saints
This is for the kids sparing change

This is for the hungry, this is for the weak
This is for those who come out at night who get no sleep
This is for those who never had a chance

Steve went to Vietnam
Drafted to kill for Uncle Sam
When it was over he had survived
But he did not care to live or die

He drinks all day to kill the pain
The merriness of so many, slain
No dollar to his name, just the shirt on his back
He owns nothing, just a pair of socks and a flashback

It don't matter much when you suffer from shellshock

Now you're out, out on your own
Can't find a friend, you're all alone
No goodness or light, no hope or dreams
No happiness or future for you to see

You got no food, you got no clothes
Can't find no shelter, got no where to go

© Colby Keegan

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