| I have heard a mother’s tongue.
|
| She said baby don’t you come under.
|
| I am so far from my home,
|
| that Heaven can’t hear my call.
|
| But I am digging my own grave.
|
| I am chasing shit beneath the haze.
|
| I was so sure that he would stay,
|
| and would love me anyway.
|
| I was happy on my own.
|
| I would call the days as they were none.
|
| And in the guilt that I have found,
|
| You know the one that sticks around.
|
| I was so sure that i would go,
|
| that I’d already sunk the boat.
|
| And I sought out my winter coat.
|
| I cut the sleeves off before I’d known.
|
| I was so sure that I would feel,
|
| a mark of guilt, the pain of you.
|
| and I was happy on my own,
|
| I would call the days as they were known.
|
| And in the guilt that I have found,
|
| you know the one that sticks around.
|
| I was so sure that he would stay,
|
| and would love me anyway. |