The Old Man And The,

fifty one.

Deadly things find me in the dreams I dream

Once upon a time there was a wicked man

Deadly things find me in the songs I sing

He ran through the streets banging pots and pans

Deadly things find me in the pages I write

He beckoned the day with a sailor's tongue

Deadly things grin in the dead of the night

Stumbling and sneering at the pretty, the young

Pretty things wrapped in the devil's shroud

Wicked he'd laugh and wicked he'd cry

Pretty things quiet and deadly things loud

Wicked he'd brush a rogue tear from his eye

Deadly things chase me, mock me in fright

Tarnished and wrinkled and lonely was he

Deadly things follow me up into flight

When nearing the end, fell into the sea

Deadly things whisper in sinister hiss

Licked by the waves, beached on the sand

Deadly things tuck me in with prayer and a kiss

He followed the line of his life on his hand

Listenin' to deadly things, shallow they breathe

Did god ever know him, did god ever care?

But death ain't so ugly when the pretty things leave

Did god ever see him, was god ever there?