Time slip't, a careless moment, words without thought or foment. No smile, no glance, no touch, nor care none of these things so fair, was ever thought or brought to share.
I've gaps in my memory, And holes in my shoes. not enough time, Too much *****. Nothing left of strength and toil. The grapes of wrath? That wasted soil!
But for the Ghosts of Things unsaid,.. Shadows host the Deeds Undone. Bare walls and plank't floor, cobwebs of nothing more. A Home empty; a house.. a shack, a time-worn agent my soul to wrack. Shadows flitting through cobwebs in the corners of my mind.
I've holes in My memory, And Gaps in my Blues. Too much time, And Not enough *****.