The power gave out At a quarter til 9 November 2016 The rain and the fog Concealed the gold moon It was the darkest night Id never seen Stumbled my way to the kitchen And I fumbled around the drawers And I found that white matchbook From the tavern last week Choked up and burn it to the core Lights come to rest on some memories Visions Id lost to my dreams The glow scaled the walls And it painted my ceiling So I laid down And let myself think And I thought Did she need me for comfort? Did she need me to breathe? Or did she need someone to suture the wounds That nobody cared to see? Oh I aint so bad But I aint too good At keeping things tight at the seams So I closed my eyes And put it to sleep Those were the good days The old ones When your hard times were feeble and meek Them demons wouldnt dare Poke out their heads Lies hid behind smiling teeth But your habits, theyre harmless And ruts grow with age Decay is the flow of a stream Meanders and wanders Not making a sound Till your insides buckle and scream But I still thought Did she need me for comfort? Did she need me to breathe? Or did she need someone to suture the wounds Nobody cared to see? Oh I aint so bad But I aint too good At keeping things tight at the seams So I closed my eyes And put it to sleep The power gave out At a quarter til 9 November, 2016
suture, need, november, seam, cared