The kitchen is empy the voices are gone
and everyone's thinking about what they said wrong.
i've been sitting for hours with paints but no art
and i'd paint you a masterpiece but i can't.
It's too long between smiles.
It's too quiet at night,
and it's too far for the stars to shine
but they do anyway... and what does that say?
The walls have been cleaned, there're no shoes at the door
nobody asleep on the loungeroom floor
just a lonely plug at the edge of the sink
and a whole heap of nothing but thoughts to think.
No comments:
Post a Comment