| Green-leaf dawn implies |
| something sweet in mind. |
| But it’s still your fingers in my back pocket. |
| Makes me wonder why I sit here so tall, |
| and why I run from the walls. |
| Critters by the litter |
| come gushing out my eyes, |
| like fears yet worth the fright. |
| So, pour me a drink, |
| and I’ll spill this dark ink. |
| I’ll tell you it’s all for you, |
| but it ain’t it’s just my way of coping |
| with this bleary-eyed baby girl. |
| Well, it’s just my way of coping |
| with this bleary-eyed baby girl, |
| dying on my kitchen floor. |
| [But it ain’t it’s just my way of coping |
| with this bleary-eyed baby girl. |
| Well, it’s just my way of coping |
| with this bleary-eyed baby girl, |
| dying on my kitchen floor.] |