doted on like seeds planted in rows the untied shoelaces of you life nutured all year then presssed in a book or displayed in bad taste at the table problems arise and you fan the fire while there's a wild pack of dogs loose in your house tonight. cut from bad cloth or soiled like socks add it up and basically people never change.
they just talk and make plans in the dark or make haste with ideas that can't help but creep good people out as you talk to me too much you're assuming we don't always want what's right.
did i strike the right set of chords? you're annoyed. the goal is to ignite you then move on. you feel ill at ease. you got no squeeze. and the wise cracks won't make you more stable. you've learned you lines to scale and to time. why must i remind you now i'm only less able. cut from bad cloth or soiled like socks we're ordinary people we can't help but to change
as we walk and make plans in the dark or make haste with the boy who can't help but creep good people out. as you talk to me too much you're assuming we don't always want what's right.
two fallen saplings in an open field. snow padding gently on an empty bench. an old woman's jewelry lying unadorned. colo nesting robins allied for the first time. i know when you hear these sappy lines you'll roll your eyes and say "nice try".