Thought I heard every word that you said
All the rock, salt and nails turning round in my head
Have seen me defeated at last
My colonial spirit is laying down, dead
And my feet stand asleep on the floor
Put my best one forward just to get through this door
I’ve come six thousand miles through the past
And am I worthless or am I worth more?
The blossom falls now in the evening breeze
It never knows just how many it’s pleased
Try to protect it from all this disease
See how it slips through my fingers with ease
Now there’s desert right here in my hand
A badwater basin as dry as the sands
One flower to take in the air
And I’m dry on my knees and here’s my sinner’s prayer
The blossom falls now in the evening breeze
It never knows just how many it’s pleased
Try to protect it from all this disease
See how it slips through my fingers with ease
The tighter the grasp
The quicker the kill
Fingers curl around
Just hoping that it’s real
And under the same sky
But there not as dry
There’s aspersions cast along the party line
Now there’s no verse that you could quote me
That I could belong to, believe in or need
I step out of your heaven-less stare
And the blossom falls
And there’s no-one to care
And you’re nothing, dear; you’re just lost in the air
© Simon Olivier 2007.
See more like this...and other discussion-type stuff on my page: www.scriptsimon.wordpress.com
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