I’ve noticed that the days go by quick and slow
Quick and slow
You know what I mean
Quick in the sense that the day is gone, and you can’t see a thing that you did that made any difference at all
Slow in the fact that you keep watching the clock, hoping that in the next hour something will happen
I keep waiting, keep waiting
Oh, what am I waiting for?
Cool, calm, collected?
Tall and gorgeous face?
Oh, one to save me
Save me from myself?
Some cruel joke I must be playing on myself
Waiting, anticipating
Why not just let the breeze flow, the leaves fall, the snow melt, the sun shine, the flowers grow
And why not just let me be? Be me.....
Monday, November 12, 2007
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