Words are the worst way
to say what I have to say,
but sometimes you can't play how you want to play
to show it well.

And this is one splinter
one splinter of a sentence,
both a pain and a pleasure
to try to expel.
But I have to tell
all about the years of influence
and artless advice
that can still only escape in
a struggling, stilted excuse for a smile.

And when you're parked over on the wrong side
of nowhere
no amount off nothing
is going to make it worthwhile.

--

A touch, subdived, rinsed, and sold,
before the hands have a chance to get cold,
as an eyelash pries
an hour from the schedules of the uninvolved.

And your sills so-called
insulation
can only sigh at
December Sundays, unsolved.

So like the transportation of the suns,
you must hold steady to the ones
who light your mornings, nights, and aftermoons.

And if you should grow angry with the pace of chance, don't be afraid to make some plans
for December Sundays soon.

--

Today you missed her getting up
once again.
Well boy, you've got to listen to me
promise her you'll rise this day next year
from this very bed.
from this very bed.
from this very bed.

--

Today you missed her getting up
once again.
Well boy, you've got to listen to me
promise her you'll rise this day next year
from this very bed.
from this very bed.
from this very bed.

See also:
JustSomeLyrics
104
104.68
(G) Al Denson Take Me To The Cross Lyrics
Dimitra Galani Miazo Me Asteio Lyrics