I traverse the intrepid steel strings
Of a faithfully delivered gift of joy
One I do not deserve
Why is it that skies look
Bloodless in January
These are the days of meaningless deeds
And the people....
Hate is no fruit at all
The limbs fall
Or bare all in the face of winter winds
Like the eyes of god
Let's not pretend you can rise above
This, this is the weight of Atlas
And you are but an ant
I say I give to the guitar
But I feel as though I am only a robber
As the music sings itself
And I, press down harder
Strum faster
Faster than a dying heart
I must reach something
We all must reach
Something
Find your bloody arm upon
The threshing floor
Among the tears
There are no stars in her eyes tonight
There is no sun here
It left with a sigh
At the first sob
Club hearted old fool
When pride becomes more
When it becomes who you are
When how they see you, is how you are
Hell would've been better
Money would've been nicer
Love would've been warmer
Happiness would've been a list
And I wouldn't be sitting here
Laughter is no laughter
When your eyes fail the deed
When your soul remains unhealed
And your conscious is dulled yet again
With another lie
I wish she was coming
But heaven knows
Heaven knows