Kent Eugene Goolsby

The Great Confessor


I don’t know what’s harder

Telling the truth or hearing it

Holding my breath or wasting it

Blowin’ all this smoke

Like some long lost brother

I have come here in need another

But I ask not for your comfort

Just a bended ear


Cuz I’ve tried to be a great confessor

Of dreams and nothing lesser

Of a love that would surrender

If you were standing at the gate


Been pulling nails out of coffins

Trying to raise some hell

But our spirits are as reluctant

As a young lover's farewell

So I'm dusting off a language

That we once spoke so well

Back when we believed that words were sung

To save us from ourselves


(So I’ve tried to be a great confessor…)


When my moment has been measured

And the ends have all frayed

My conscious be clear

Because I’ll be able to say


(That I tried to be a great confessor…)



Copyright 2016 Kent Eugene Goolsby