I'm a bit like a soldier

In the way I wear no uniform

And choose not to fight

And fight all night

For some other cause



I'm a bit like the grave digger

Who wields no shovel

And digs no hole

But leaves the bodies to rot

In the places that they stand

For some other cause



I'm a bit like the pack mule

Carrying no load

Into the canyons of your jive

For some other cause



I'm a bit like the freelance fence painter

Then eyes your backside as you leave

For some other cause



I'm a bit like the peephole

That falls in love with all the eyes

That look through

Watching major things unfold

From minor flaws

For some other cause



(Have Mercy)