the weather is a strain
to my soul, shoulders, strength
i'd rather not believe in it
at all - at this point
i thought you were a great person
i don't know if it's sacrifice
or you feel my ride-a-long
but i'm sure in every jar of money
there's plenty
i need more than you can give i think
i think i need a whole spirit, soul, and body
to maintain my good moods
and relax off the few
that come like shaw breaks
and rage through my gut
into my guts
not ripping but
assuaging my soul to life
everlasting
you'd expect it in churches
synagogues, never would you feel hate
nothing in you does
me and my gentle current, my soft rope
fighting to never have to fight again
cuz i couldn't handle it
there are plenty of roses
but i'm the only one
who counts the stars on your block
and gives you the love
you never knew you needed