Bad Luck - Tamar Eisenman

The Gate was open

All you had to do was walk in

But your horse was limping

You were late to your own party

Too much faith leads bad luck

I hear the train rolling in…

The pictures album

Accessible and comforting

It was always summer for your bare skin

Still, / Every time you had guts to win

You got sick and passed it on

Choices, rhapsodies of mind

Really looking inside might have helped you out

Instead you were fishing floating leaves

Too much faith leads bad luck