hindsight's a funny sort of animal
Mind going rip-roaring crazy today.
I thank any higher power that I'm sober.
That this nasty spell of loneliness hasn't taken me completely over.
Just let my fingers type rhymes that my lips don't have the eloquence to say.
Maybe once I write them out, these spooks I finally will slay!
Lately my thoughts have been of ghosts, ghosts that I once knew.
And they crowd my bed, and they crowd my head, they crowd the distance between me and you.
I scowl at them, and I bark out cries, that engulf the silence of my tiny room.
But my body is weak, my back up supply of strength has sprung a leak,
and the mere sensation of memory makes me swoon!
Ah, how sweet is hindsight, as it plays repeatedly in my mind like an erotic croon.
Makes me believe every song of experience I ever sang was perfectly in tune.
It takes all the light that is left inside me not to surrender my unveiled body to the moon!
Must breathe now. Can't let them win. Got to remember to grab for the keyboard first, instead of the gin.
In. Out. In. Out. My memories are striding out of my subconscious, they are painted on my eyes.
In. Out. In. Out. Time does paint a pretty kind of guise.
I thank any higher power that I'm sober.
That this nasty spell of loneliness hasn't taken me completely over.
Just let my fingers type rhymes that my lips don't have the eloquence to say.
Maybe once I write them out, these spooks I finally will slay!
Lately my thoughts have been of ghosts, ghosts that I once knew.
And they crowd my bed, and they crowd my head, they crowd the distance between me and you.
I scowl at them, and I bark out cries, that engulf the silence of my tiny room.
But my body is weak, my back up supply of strength has sprung a leak,
and the mere sensation of memory makes me swoon!
Ah, how sweet is hindsight, as it plays repeatedly in my mind like an erotic croon.
Makes me believe every song of experience I ever sang was perfectly in tune.
It takes all the light that is left inside me not to surrender my unveiled body to the moon!
Must breathe now. Can't let them win. Got to remember to grab for the keyboard first, instead of the gin.
In. Out. In. Out. My memories are striding out of my subconscious, they are painted on my eyes.
In. Out. In. Out. Time does paint a pretty kind of guise.