the hard man

 
I miss you, John Brady
I used to crush on your words
they were hard and bruising
like it is to be kissed with a mad passion
 
I never go for the soft ones  
the tender gentle type
it's the rough edges that stirs me  
the spitting whiskey larger than life kind of man
 
a man who doesn't make me a little afraid isn't for me
masochistic I need a slightly sadistic touch to turn me on
I don't know what kind of god made me this way
or what makes you tick
I thought I had you down
all masculinity and rugged good looks
 
life had been tough on you
so you fucked life back
I miss your words, John
but you're just a myth
 
a man I made up in my mind
there is no such hard man to settle me down
no god either
I have to do that for myself