David

My friend David was a good kid

He had my back, always knew he did

He was different than most

And maybe I was too

Hanging out with the in-crowd just wasn't our thing

There was a whole lot more

Than we could see on these plains

Well, some people just seem to get stuck, and hang around

It's college or trade school for those with the means

There's never been any small town dreams

For those in between

Yeah the poor folks they go to work, or they go to war

I did fifteen hundred days in the Corps

And I got back, nothing looked the same anymore

I got on with the local police, it just seemed to fit

Things have changed

By then David had a daughter and a son

And a rap sheet to prove all the time that he'd done

He was just a burned out, beat down shell of my old friend

And on a three-day binge he was speeding through town

And I bumped the wailers just to try to slow him down

He didn't know it was me, and he took off

Oh how things change