as sundays went by
i started going to church
i was just cut up flesh at that point
been cut thru all circulations
from hands, to arms, legs, head, feet, throat, everywhere...
but it was starting to heal
i was always bleeding
it seemed you were happy, but not quite
i sensed something in your voice
that said "he's not there yet" and it sang like
crows across the wind
and/but it gave me hope
can we start again, i thought?
it wouldn't be for long... or forever
i would gut my throat in front of mirrors
break into my own death
like hamlet or lady macbeth
dagger in the head then one to the heart
how can it ever start?
i wasn't too hopeful
but now you are single
and i continue to sing though.. to you
it's crows in the wind
maybe i'm a machine now, i think
maybe i've paid every due i owed
and i dont have to get back what i'm owed either
forgiveness was never all that hard for me
i hope i sing though, in some spades and colors
and blue skies and really funny backdrops..
i hope im yours, it would be fun
all i wanna do is be nice to you
all i wanna do is be so warm
so so warm
that it burns all the crows
burns all the crows
wolverine
i make my bed in the mornings
i think about you when you're floating thru things
i cry out "no more" almost ever moment
i hope you're shown it
i hear you had some nights of grief, disbelief, crosses and moments
when you felt people dont come back from their own death
i had that too
i hope we shake hands atleast once.. you and me