Seventy six

It was seventy six
when i bruised my mind,
with a flutter of shadows
on a window blind.

It was seventy six
when I felt a break
and sold my soul
to the rattlesnake.

Back in seventy six
for a pull of smoke
and a shot of liquor
I would go for broke.

For the cheapest thrill
by the trembling wall,
back in seventy six
I would give it all.