Creeping over the edge
each morning with the sunlight.
Seeping into every crack
never failing to light your day.
It's a thirst that's never quenched
so I keep my drinking all the while.
When I think it's gone away...
A slap in the face
from a silver tray.
It takes hold and runs.
Heartbeat.
Breathe.
Spin, spin, spin and run.
Falling out of bed
I keep thinking this ends today.
Can't finish what you start
when the devil's always in the way.
The logic's not around
during bouts of sweat and chills.
Right before I leave...
A slap in the face
from a silver tray.
It takes hold and runs.
Heartbeat.
Breathe.
Spin, spin, spin and run.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
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