Looking both ways as I cross a busy street on a Sunday
afternoon, you never know the next person you’ll meet: fate or doom? To my life my presence I entreat,
waking ever day at noon.
It’s not a game that you have to beat, it’s a room. Death is the door. All you have to do is turn the knob,
and yet we sob so for those who choose to go. The decision is theirs; they are the only ones who truly
know, and yet we believe that they have interrupted the flow. You wake up every morning at the
cock’s crow and capitalize; it’s a money machine that you tow, and
you seem to think that the ho is low.
It’s the product that differs, not the intentions. There’s more to life than just
the pensions. Simply because
it’s not something that the bible mentions doesn’t mean that
it’s not causing all of our tensions.
If I look in your eyes right now and realize that
somehow I can forgive you…
If I look in your eyes right now and realize that
somehow I can forgive you, would my words outlive you, or would they just sift
through you? I’m sending a
gift through you as if I knew you.
At least I know how to.
You’d better start looking into my eyes and in between the lines
because there’s a lot more to me than the dictionary defines. You’ll have to get out the
thesaurus. My mind is an infinite
forest, full of tall reaching beautiful trees and those whose rot and decay have
left unforgettable corpses. My
only sources tell me that forces have risen against me, but I remain
remorseless. I make it a point to
not listen to that section of the chorus.
If I look in your eyes right now and realize that
somehow I can forgive you…
I’m looking into your eyes and in between the lines
and I like what I see, I like what I see.
You’re not the only girl for me.
