South Knoxville Ophelia

The cold dirty waters below,
the backwaters so very slow,
the trash and beercans and moss,
in this bed, tonight, I lay my loss.
The waters are cold, will take me in.
These bitter tears, where have you been?
Up on the brigde, knowing this dirty river,
and to some quiet place it will deliver.
4 Am; they’ve gone to bed or yet to awaken.
The cold soothes tears, waters wash what’s taken.
Drop down into the dark dirty waters, waitng for me.
Let my soul wash away from here, to some golden sea.
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