Icebergs upon icebergs, laid out in front of the mail,
You have to claw through it until you can read the letters from your family.
I understand, in the heat of the moment, you might wish to cry,
What on earth are you crying for? Sabrina has been dead for years.
You, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, all the time, it is you,
Too much time to sing and dance,
But not enough quiet moments up in the trees.
We aren't going to make it, are we?
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 5:19 PM UTC
Icebergs upon icebergs, laid out in front of the mail,
You have to claw through it until you can read the letters from your family.
I understand, in the heat of the moment, you might wish to cry,
What on earth are you crying for? Sabrina has been dead for years.
You, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, all the time, it is you,
Too much time to sing and dance,
But not enough quiet moments up in the trees.
We aren't going to make it, are we?
misstep of the week