Steady Come, Steady Go

That warm comfort jeopardized by the public front porch
Where children with awkwardly pitched voices squeal playing
At they pass I curse the sun setting west, praying
It to be eastward and just as I am cursing
One child whistles while another one sings:
'Everybody was kung fu fighting'
And the prayer I spat becomes elated
That there was no God to hear it
No God to give me fortune sought
No God to force the sun back east
We don't know what to pray for, anymore