|
The clouds are holding up the dawn |
|
they're stilts or crutches |
|
I can't tell which one |
|
to keep the short days looking longer |
|
or to keep the sunlight from falling on broken legs |
|
but the |
|
night's disguise is wearing thin |
|
caught me looking through |
|
your eyes |
|
no I'm not doing alright |
|
I'm just as stupid and |
|
desperate as I've always been |
|
all the uselessness I write |
|
just come at me with a knife |
|
come cut this sickness from my |
|
mind |
|
help me forget about a shattered lie |
|
bleed my failure |
|
into something right |
|
the boss man said there's no more work |
|
this winter |
|
so go on home now and check back in the spring |
|
some dreams turned out to be a nightmare that you can't afford |
|
so it's coming in on a credit card |
|
get yourself all prettied up |
|
my love |
|
come here close let me tie that ironed ribbon |
|
on the |
|
dress I bought you it's the perfect one |
|
for the perfect night |
|
with the perfect woman |
|
but the night's disguise is wearing thin |
