Sick Horses

I went for a ride on a dying horse
Didn't get very far
When it collapsed I felt great shame
And hitch hiked my way to a bar

I sat down at the furthest stool
And drank the voices dry
In the distant bathroom stall
I heard a young man cry

Yelling through tears and calling for help
I watched nobody care
Our asses tired and souls so parched
We gambled on his fare

Silence did soon sting the room
Indifference turned to dread
"Call the man who works the tombs"
Again, I hung my head

Still I ride a sickly horse
and listen to men wail
Saddle up for more remorse
Through guilt I blaze my trail