I look outside and see the trees
As pretty as they dare to be.
I close my eyes and feel the wind
Empty on my naked skin.
I lick my lips in memory
of a kiss that will not be.
I hear the past in a blue jay's call
lonely and unaware of it all.
I smell the stench of memories
They linger among the pretty trees.
Limit the life I want to lead
Block the view of what I need
Take a chance at happiness
and wrap it up in distant bliss
The fear of loosing is hard to weed
but the fear of winning is worse indeed.
You'll see your life through a telescope
of future pain and distant hope.
The pretty spinning blue and green
Are fragments left of things unseen
And this is what you'll make of it
when you finally meet your maker
All those worries and fears and pain
were really just your anchor.
As pretty as they dare to be.
I close my eyes and feel the wind
Empty on my naked skin.
I lick my lips in memory
of a kiss that will not be.
I hear the past in a blue jay's call
lonely and unaware of it all.
I smell the stench of memories
They linger among the pretty trees.
Limit the life I want to lead
Block the view of what I need
Take a chance at happiness
and wrap it up in distant bliss
The fear of loosing is hard to weed
but the fear of winning is worse indeed.
You'll see your life through a telescope
of future pain and distant hope.
The pretty spinning blue and green
Are fragments left of things unseen
And this is what you'll make of it
when you finally meet your maker
All those worries and fears and pain
were really just your anchor.
