Five lovely lessons learned today Coating my throat with the dust of a new day As the saints pray their lonely way And their deadweight lays the passion to waste
Maybe if I sew my heart on my sleeve They'll drop the bomb on me and I'll wake up I can only fix so much in my sleep I can only drink so much from this empty cup
I know I must not think bad thoughts I'm always beaten to the punch I'm holding aces high and low And in between I'm trying to break my fall
Give me a piece of what you've got I'll make it new with much less thought it's symbolic and full of trash Lofty endearments whispered under your breath
Five lessons remembered from yesterday Easing my mind and seizing each new day Beyond and back I? still the same Kicked over some old trash but I still waste