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Through the floor |
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Bathed in sunlight woke from dreams |
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Of murderous intention |
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Pursued by dogs and men and things |
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I'm just too scared to mention |
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And the first thing that I think of |
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Are her sympathetic eyes |
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That see with only positive emotion |
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And she talks of being grumpy, |
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But I know that grumpy's not her style |
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And I soak up all her beauty |
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'cause I'm only here awhile |
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And I muddle through my docket, |
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Nestle in the pocket |
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Just sit back and think about the world |
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And the only thing I see |
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When she's looking back at me |
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Is the promise of how life could be |
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And as I wrote my chest got tight for her |
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I know that I'm not right for her |
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And I couldn't live |
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If I ever caused her pain |
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But at least I have a message |
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That I can leave |
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That tells her of this spin inside |
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My gears turning, |
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I'm still learning to trust myself |
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But at least I've told her |
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Of this difficult good-bye |
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Seven minutes before |
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I'm leaving and now my chest is heaving |
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I just can't go like I did before |
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And tomorrow I'll be miles away and dreaming |
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That she hears my voice |
|
Floating through the floor |
