All The Days Are Gone
by Michael Doyle

Listen a little closer to the song,
Tell me, does it somehow belong?
It's not a case of stump the band,
But it's a memory of favorites across the land.

Standing ready across this promised land,
What you want to hear, a wish becomes a command.
Happiness in a song isn't so hard to find,
It's the memory dedicated to those left behind.

Death's final gift to those left living
Is the memory of what life keeps giving.
It may be hard. It might be demanding.
But we do what we do to still be standing.

Standing as the lights go down,
Somehow we wear victory's sweet crown.
A salute to our friends lost along the way,
The truth has run us down to this day.

There's a pounding in my chest,
As I fight to live, like all the rest.
Playing it out to the very end.
We find our memories are our last best friend.

A hushed kind of whisper shines its light
On our every wrong we thought was right.
On the back streets of our fallen night,
Man, what a mess we were in God's full sight.

The last chord played in our heart,
Was the lost chord we searched for from our start.
A tear of happiness rolls down a wrinkled face
Of every broken heart that remembers the place.

Tramps like us, we were born to run
As we chased after our place in the sun.
We really had quite a lot of mischievous fun.
Let's have one more day before all days are gone.

     ...There's no one left to carry on.
My heart was sold down at the pawn shop and is gone.
     ... There's no one left to lean on.
It turns out life's fairytale was no once upon...

(c) September 5, 2025   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved