Sunday Afternoon

Another Sunday afternoon

Nothing much to do

But sit and try and make some sense of what I think about you

Soaked with surroundings that just make me yawn

First snow is melting outside on the lawn

Scattered bits of yesterday with melancholy flecks of grey

Creeping back to tell me I was wrong

A heartful of what's hard to say

I've let that skipping record play far too long

Fall

Still were shot down by the likes of it all

Fly

Up above all that still steals the lights from your carnival

One smiled and said to me don't stay awake

Some kind of affirmation knowing you were truly wrong

Some kind of happiness at things we never see

No we are not half as smart as you pretend to

Well you were right I have pretended to be me

And now these jaded eyes

Can barely see where is this going anyway

It's always hard to say

Hard to say