I see the skyline blurred through
the plastic on your back screen door
Not unlike the faces of the
people who keep turning up in the places we go
The ones we'd never see if
things weren't going so well
When I was a torn jacket hanging
on the barbed wire
You cut me free
And sewed me up and here I
am
Isn't it hard
To be the one whose phone
rings all day everyday?
Isn't it hard
To be the strong one?
Mouths move without vision
-- without regard for consequences
Eyes fill with memories poisoned
by intimate knowledge of failure to love
Sometimes, sometimes, doesn't
the light seem to move so far away?
You help your sisters, you
help your old lovers, you help me but who do you cry to?
Cause isn't it hard
To be the one who gathers
everybody's tears?
Isn't it hard
To be the strong one?
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |