| I’m sorry I dropped you, I’m sorry I did
|
| Black eyes and blue jeans in the garden
|
| At the edge of Summer
|
| I don’t want to lose ya
|
| But you’re making it hard, so hard
|
| With nothing to cling to
|
| You’re out on your own
|
| Ageless at the bottom of the garden
|
| At the edge of Summer
|
| I don’t want to lose ya
|
| But you’re making me try, so hard
|
| This is a warning
|
| This is a warning
|
| This is a warning
|
| For everyone who feels like
|
| They’re living with their eyes shut
|
| Tripping over eggshells
|
| And trying their best
|
| This is a warning
|
| This is a warning
|
| This is a warning
|
| I watch how the sun moves
|
| When it comes in too close
|
| I sat at the bottom of the garden
|
| At the edge of Summer
|
| I don’t want to lose ya
|
| But you’re making me try, so hard
|
| This is a warning
|
| This is a warning
|
| This is a warning
|
| For everyone who feels like
|
| They’re living with their eyes shut
|
| Tripping over eggshells
|
| And trying their best
|
| This is a warning
|
| This is a warning
|
| This is a warning
|
| [If the sun didn’t set today
|
| Would tomorrow still be yesterday?
|
| I wrote a Hemingway along your spine
|
| It read profanity, Biro pens that I wrote poems with
|
| I swallowed so they’d never tell my secret, sweet and very strange
|
| I was never raised properly just a slob behind a property with a lot to say
|
| For a time that might not be his head
|
| The laughing spot as if I hid
|
| The cold the only thing in the know the villages I filled with
|
| Facts and things in Saturday known in scribbled ink
|
| Provided that they were known to make clearly
|
| I got a good job that might be easier than that other work]
|
| When the Summer is over
|
| We had nothing to show
|
| Black eyes in the garden
|
| For everyone who feels like
|
| They’re living with their eyes shut
|
| Tripping over eggshells
|
| And trying their best
|
| This is a warning
|
| This is a warning
|
| This is a warning
|
| For everyone who feels like
|
| They’re living with their eyes shut
|
| Tripping over eggshells
|
| And trying their best
|
| When the Summer was over
|
| We had nothing to show
|
| Black eyes in the garden
|
| And no where to go |