Echo

I was there

I was there when Rome fell

At those final games

I was there

Cynthia laughing

Beer bourbon cigarettes and sex

Fuck ya

Cynthia is talking sin and sadness

John is passed out

It was seventeen days since it all shut down

Ten years on that fucking line

You can hear the echoes across Seventh St. and Sydney is sitting at the bar with a full bottle of Jack

But Sydney died five years ago she says whispering it in my ear

And she is right but there she is anyway and the plant is running full steam three shifts I am on nights just got in and it is money like I never made money put the cash down on the truck buying all the options it seems just a few moments ago

But I know it is not

Cynthia is calling me and I can hear the phone but I am walking across the hallway wondering how can it possibly be the year 2000 but I never got that fucking degree did I she laughs as Drew tries to kiss her at that bar we used to go to Pink Floyd playing and I am feeling dizzy, dizzy, dizzy as the cover band wraps up and I wonder

Why did I waste all that time

When they pull the rug out from under you

Nothing left

Why did I waste all that fucking time

Bought into it all believed it all accepted it all Christmas bonus every year every year at the party every year the small increase every year the new toy every year the new TV every year I was there every year

Cynthia is dancing and we are 18 or 22 or 28 or 32 or whenever whatever because it is really all the same we are where we were and yet not

Singing karaoke on Friday nights You Can't Always Get What You Want which is true but we never got what we needed either did we just a paycheck and then they just moved that job away 

I never thought it would be Hollywood but when did they decide there would be no more factory or did they decide that I can't even tell as the train passes carrying goods we didn't make where are they fucking coming from and who is making them 

I am sorry I say to Cynthia and she smiles red shirt ball cap we fell in love so long ago I cried when Chris was born holding him in my arms it was a distant time past and yet it seems like now I really want more of the tequila but we are on the highway

Rain is starting to fall

Cynthia's head is on my shoulder she is looking up smiling John still sleeping the radio is playing and it is Putin or Obama or Caligula or Xerxes and who cares as we pull into the rest stop we will all be shuffling along soon enough and I really just want a break but a break is hard to come by and I wonder how many mornings before none of it matters anyway

I was there you know

I was there when they held those final games