#1 (2)

It's the thrill you leave behind you

It's the condensation on the glass

It's the will that bakes and binds you

In your all important solitude

And I'll push it 'til it runs me through

I will sing it 'til my lips are blue

"I want to"

"I want to"

It's the little things that come first

Like the struggled closing of a dress

But it gives a little comfort

When they start dissolving in the mess

Heavy like a year

Slung low, the sunflower heads

Standing there all soaking wet

Say their prayers and go to bed