Sure Looks Better
Sifting through the wreckage of the life I used to lead;
Only shattered dreams and broken masks I once did need.
Setting of my jaw with shadows dangling on my chin-
Wondering where to stop before I feel I should begin.
Send me painted clocks of red and tell me the old man! -
Shut up in my bones and with no plans to ever stand.
Wasn't long before the seeds did harvest in my soul.
Aching struggle, but faith to keep on striving for my goal.
Redemption is all wished upon, but slap my pure blind mind.
No need to tell me lies, no need to leave my eyes behind.
This one sure will bleed the last; gluing all together.
This one now is all bled out; the other sure looks better.