And the saints came marching in <br />And right on they went <br />Down the street <br />Towards the black tees <br />Shanked their balls <br />Cursed and drank Champaign <br />And when all had been done <br />It was hardly across the line <br />But you’re either on <br />One or the other <br /> <br />And there was a lone shadow <br />Lost in its cast <br />Among that dividing line <br />Within it’s unconscious <br />We moved absolutely torpid <br />In result of it’s absent <br />Totally oblivious to either side<br /><br />Dan Walters<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-time-spent-as-a-drifter/
