woozles - old calendars lyrics
old calendars from years past
still hang in my room
telling me of the past times
the good, the bad, and the true
when i look at you i wistfully hope
that i see my own future; our future
and see the pain in your history
written in the lines of your face
but the roaring cacophony inside my mind
dies down to a murmur of clarity
when i look in your eyes
even though i know it’s all wrong
are we both so lonely, so distant
that if i were to brush the back of my hand
gently against your face
neither of us would feel it?
i put on a charade of energy each day
like a clown puts on his makeup:
with a deep sigh and a master hand
which grows shakier each coming night
i am a hollow boy
like a tree rotting from the inside out
but still clinging tenaciously to life
stretching ever upward towards the sun
you are my sun
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