Untitled Track: A Song There Is No Music For

A Poem

I cut my fingernails too short to learn to play guitar Now I’ve got a dollar bill in that rusty swear jar- I made you as a kid, to teach you how to live to teach you how to raise us and to teach you to forgive- We disregard those lessons, why wouldn’t we I guess? When I’m a dumb ass child, and You’re a fucked up mess

Now your cat is sitting next to me and she’s purring but what’s haunting me is that she’s the last one who’d have heard you breathe or made you laugh, and now I’m sitting here Knowing you’re not coming back- It’s up to me to be your Sun and save her with the rest of them Because loving’s hard to give, but what I’d give to see you fall And to pick yourself back up before the cloud grows ten feet tall

The end of days grows near and still, the birds they keep on chirping- For they know that in the end, is the evening is the morning

I cut my thumbnail too short, to learn to strum guitar Now I’ve stuffed my last two cents in a dusty love-filled jar Who’s wealth may be meaningless- but I made it as a kid a gift I’d hoped to give to teach you how to love me and to teach me to forgive I recall the lessons, how couldn’t I at that?

When I am my own Mother, and I am my own Dad.