Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Who cremated the morning
And sprinkled it over my forehead?
It's not a day of worship
Unless I haven't got the facts straight
I can see from my window
The sprinklers shooting like cool rubber bands
And
The grass reaches out like so many hungry hands
Like so many hungry hands
Well, I have waited in vain
For you to return and bless my bed
And I watched the sun crawl up
And shoot down with a hole through his head
But I followed it surely
'Cause he moves so painfully slow
Saying love is worth suffering for
Live without it and you'll know
Live without it and you'll know
You'll surely know
When the evening slows
And the cicadas lull
I try to remember something I already know
With a fish hook and a history book
Well the best lack all conviction
And the worst are stoned to death
And the worst are stoned to death
When the light burns into memory
And my heart cries to the centuries
Let the fire, go ahead and the let fire out of me
Only then will I
Only then will I
But I will, only then will I
I will, only then will I
I will