Find Your Way

John Petitt ©1997

just barely seventeen

been a thousand miles since anybody’s called him green

when he’s had the time

he couldn’t spare a dime

and that phone call home ricochets through his mind

he works for food when he can get it

trying hard not to regret it

trying to find his way

home

trying to find his way

apple of her father’s eye

for the first child born the only limit is the sky

when she moved away

her mother knelt and prayed

she knew the city could turn a bright star grey

she woke one morning with a gun against her head

and she looked at that man and said

hope you find your way

home

hope you find your way

just like a leaf in the wind on a

lonely ride

if you can’t help me friend you’d better

step aside

i held her hand

it’ll take more than my years to understand

when she whispered please

reach over there

and hand me my wings

you will find your way home

you will find your way