Fast Eddie was a hood we know|
Good guy -- a little flaky though
And we don’t need no flakes round here
Shootin’ “h” or snortin’ snow
When Ed was high, his brain went queer
He talked too much when cops were near
That’s how he wound up in the lake
Just like his brother did last year
Their drug habits they couldn’t shake
There’s no forgiving that mistake
For there’s some dirt you just can’t sweep
Under the rug if you’re a flake
When guys get into drugs too deep
There might be secrets they don’t keep
And guys like that make us lose sleep
So with the fishes Ed must sleep
patterned after "Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening"
by Robert Frost.
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep
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