The flesh in my bones is not quite as thick as it used to be
Some days I think that the ridges in the tips of my fingers have been worn away
I load my back with 16 tons
I’m listening hard for the camel crack
When Fear brought the church to me I thought I’d
Touched stained glass for far too long
My fingers yellowed, my fingers stained
You died in glass that was stained that color.
I found you soft in a cold, dark place,
eyes so wide I could barely see the whites.
In a cold dark place I could not find the softest part
In your eyes
In your eyes
The flesh in my bones is not quite as lush as I thought it was now I find I’m as soft as a cat
I load my head with 16 tons
I’m listening hard for that that I hope is there
I have been told what to do, what to be, what I cannot be.
I have been many things I don’t even know what I want to be
I hope I am much stronger for these things that I have been
I thing too clear, too dear, too cold, I fear
I fear I see the bottom of the sea
A thing to clear
She was ice green clouded over
She faded fast as she faded fast
As the sun came clear.
As the sun came clear.
I hunt this photograph that binds you to me
I hunt this dream that I thought was part of you and me
I burn the locket, I collect this ash,
I hold the dust, I hold it dear
until the sun came clear.
Until the sun came clear.
I hunt this photograph that binds you to me
I hunt this dream that I thought was part of you and me
I burn the locket, I collect this ash,
I hold the dust, I hold it dear
until the sun came clear.
Until the sun came clear.
You know I held you so dear.
Like Mary in the sky a small blond skull turned to me
It’s time for me to leave
Nothing left but the creature in the corner
Nothing left but the beast behind the door
I let loose, I screamed at the storm
I could have saved her
I could have saved her
I could have saved her
I could have saved her
If I’d only had the time.
If I’d only had the time.
If I’d only took the time.
The flesh on her bones is no longer on her bones,
It has seeped, been stripped it has found and wound it’s way
And open, the eyes lie live at the bottom of the sea
They lie accusing me,
They lie accusing me
of everything I wish I could be in her eyes.
In her eyes.
In her eyes.
©1997 rob hinkal