DAULTON

Knew a man from Indiana... Daulton was his name
Friendly smile, lanky frame...only claim to fame
We shared each other’s memories
Thoughts would fill our songs
Minds were in the jungle... his heart’s in Tara Haute

Traveled out in search of... youthful ideas
Filled our packs with comfort lies...water for our thirst
The times that were the hardest, were the ones I remember first
Daulton smiled, took my path...
Left me with a curse
 
Sometimes it rained so hard my tears
Would be disguised and hide the fears
Nothing would every change the way I appeared
Daulton realized the lie...he was my brother dear
 
Trying hard to keep pace with changing scenery
Hacked our way through anger... frustrations greenery
I head a sound, fell to my knees...threw the helmet from my head
A quiet voice inside me said
“A friend of yours is dead”
 
Sometimes it rained so hard my soul
Would be soaked and bitter cold
Nothing would ever change the way it was told
Until that quiet voice told me...Daulton’s going home