Times Worth Living

It's too late for me, my friends
 Once I gave refuge to the notion, even for a moment
 There was no turning back to comfort again
 Only a lifetime of defeats, more or less spectacular
 So march on to your court dates
 I'll gather court dates of my own
 I'll miss the ones in prisons and the ones who never made it there
 The ones who said:
 "Onward, comrades, to our death!"
 With ruin on their breath
 The weight of centuries on their tongues
 Loading failed manifestos in their guns
 As if defeat, repeated often, could someday mean we had won
 Our history's a vacant lot littered with empty bank accounts
 Sobbing parents, broken bones
 Glorious songs, lengthy prison terms
 A handful of moments that were truly our own
 In between desperate gasping for air
 worth breathing and times worth living
 In between desperate gasping for air
 worth breathing and times worth living in