The date is printed orange
in the bottom right hand corner
of my very favorite picture.
It's from two-thousand and eight
And, as my cramping legs keep ambling
every gavel foot falls faster than
the one that fell before.
I'm wondering
where the Hell the years have gone.
You were all brown eyes and wide white smiles.
I was all youthful bravado.
As your laughter swelled to confidence,
I was sinking straight down to the bottom.
And the water rolled on past us,
Goose Creek
swelled with the Summer run-off...
Tell me where did all this time run off to?
The moon is looming large
in the hazing, ashed-out corner
of my wine-enchanted eyeball
on this too-typical night.
And every hyphen lends some extra space
to staggered breaths as I recall your face.
Now I'm spelling out
my own verdict:
defendant's moving to convict.
I don't know the final cost.
But I got enough memories
to say what future I still have,
well it sure ain't coming free.
I got enough memories now
that I don't know where I will be
when a year is just a yawn and a sigh,
and you're still lodged
deep down inside of me.
You were brown eyes' living confidence,
I was yellow, fading cowardice.
I know you were the better one,
and I've always been scraping the bottom.
And the water stalled beside us,
Red Riv-
-er choked with Winter ice blocks.
Don't know why I was so dumb and frozen.
But thanks
for believing
all those years.
Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 11:36 AM UTC
The date is printed orange
in the bottom right hand corner
of my very favorite picture.
It's from two-thousand and eight
And, as my cramping legs keep ambling
every gavel foot falls faster than
the one that fell before.
I'm wondering
where the Hell the years have gone.
You were all brown eyes and wide white smiles.
I was all youthful bravado.
As your laughter swelled to confidence,
I was sinking straight down to the bottom.
And the water rolled on past us,
Goose Creek
swelled with the Summer run-off...
Tell me where did all this time run off to?
The moon is looming large
in the hazing, ashed-out corner
of my wine-enchanted eyeball
on this too-typical night.
And every hyphen lends some extra space
to staggered breaths as I recall your face.
Now I'm spelling out
my own verdict:
defendant's moving to convict.
I don't know the final cost.
But I got enough memories
to say what future I still have,
well it sure ain't coming free.
I got enough memories now
that I don't know where I will be
when a year is just a yawn and a sigh,
and you're still lodged
deep down inside of me.
You were brown eyes' living confidence,
I was yellow, fading cowardice.
I know you were the better one,
and I've always been scraping the bottom.
And the water stalled beside us,
Red Riv-
-er choked with Winter ice blocks.
Don't know why I was so dumb and frozen.
But thanks
for believing
all those years.
I basically only ever write about the same one thing. Sorry 'bout that, folks
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