Everyday that goes by Our bond becomes little more than a time of day, Dust on a window sill, A lightning bug in a mason jar
I know that nothing can be permanent Change cannot scare a man that has no constant But recently the thought occurred to me that you keep going about your business When the clock strikes that hour, That you brush the thought of me aside as if cleaning me out, That you are glad that light in the jar has gone dim
So I find myself waiting on you like a train that will never come And I ask about you now and again How are you? Are you happy? Do you have a new light? At this point I've realized I could say anything and you'd pay me no mind People tell me that perhaps you can't deal with the thought of me emotionally That I hurt you Cut you and whenever I open my mouth I'm pouring salt into to a cavernous wound
The other day a close friend told me something different She doesn't respond to you because she doesn't care about you. Move on
You've gone from crutch to love to desire to memory
She doesn't care. Move on
That's a change that would put fear into even the most roving of nomads