Sometimes we hold our own hand in the dark

When its too late to call a friend,

and the hours continue to slow the closer it is to dawn



Sometimes we hold our own hand in the dark

When we can’t move from the bed

And if we did we’d be no better off



Sometimes we hold our own hand in the dark

And imagine that it belongs to someone else

And if it could maybe the rest of us could too



Belong wholly to another person

No more shackled to our own mind

No more the sole source of heat in this bed we find so wide these days




Sometimes we hold our own hand in the dark



Most times we hold our own hand in the dark