The Name of a Street

...and preserve it into these words:
Ink on my fingers, facing blank pages
Years of singing of desperation
I find myself now somewhat content
At the price of feeling somewhat uninspired
Trying to savor the precious present tense
And preserve it into these words:
We are who we are
We have done what we have done
Nothing can change the places we've been
The notes we've left, or the things we've said
Ink on our fingers
Ink-covered pages
Trying to savor the precious present tense
And preserve it into these words