Lyrics
Your head is on my shoulder, rough jazz bellows
From the living room, might as well be
My live match, marching me
To the depths of its cold and graceful wrenching tones...
Well, the coffee's boiled over, and the
Soup's gone cold, and the drapes hang down
Against the freezing rain, and
Sheltering under this quilt- it's the best that I can do
Avoiding tonight's thoughts
Of tomorrow's responsibilities..
And my
Hands shrink- maybe from the draft, or maybe
The wish that my thoughts
Would dwindle and remain with my body still,
Or become the freezing rain to shatter
And to spill all its secrets to me-
Or better yet to someone else
Whose hands don't shrink
From the smallest things.
And something will get me upset
And I won't eat right for days,
And there's nothing to pass this haze
But to write my simple words and strum
Them with some chords and hope
All this will pass,
Before the next disaster hits...
And I hope my hunger doesn't fade too soon.
But I'm watching my own desires
Drowning in complacency, or
Maybe my dreams have changed, but
That could be an excuse
As I watch the ice splinter across my windowsill...
Do I know what's worth it still?