Hard times, the throw is offline
pictures of black and gray
soft
She sends it home
In a paper bag
Says things change
Maybe it’s
Now I know that it's the same
Different people, different days.
And
some time ago I keep losing track, over again
all these
Thought you saw this last time. It's a rerun
But this
Time winds down as you stretch upward to heaven
His blood
Sometimes they move faster
Faster than our eyes can tell the
