Sunday Bloody Sunday. My Brother

Cruising in the Crown Victoria

Chris at the wheel, drumming the steering of this song

Speaks to the heart of brother to brother

A bond that cannot be broken

We have broken bottles on the email streets

And no matter what scars, we emerge joined by the blood we shed

Forced to turn in my brother

    I would die first

To claim a victory jesus won

We are bound by

   The differences we hold in our hearts

    And the space we've traversed together

    Pencil lead in the head

  Taunting teeth

    Heels of the shoe

Pushed off the top shelf of the upstairs

The Playboy penthouse

       Helmet to helmet Chiefs

1 on 1 in the front yard

     Sled to the head

I always felt safe

     Fake ID brawl for Miller

Winnetonka pin, with you warming up

Deployed driveway drudging

   The whole enchilada...brotherly lunches

Ramblings atop the peaks

I am blessed.... And bound through blood, passion and vulnerability to you my brother!!!!