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Five lovely lessons learnt today
Coating my throat with the dust of a new day
As the saints pray their lonely way
They're dead weight lays the passion to waste
If I sew my heart on my sleeve
They'll drop the bomb on me and I'll wake up
I can only fix much in my sleep
I can only drink so much from this empty cup
I know I must not think bad thoughts
I'm always beaten to the punch
I'm holding aces high and low
And in between I'm tryin' to break my fall
Give me a piece of what you've got
I'll make it new with much less thought
It's symbolic and full of trash
Lofty endearment whispered under your breath
Five lessons remembered yesterday
Easing my mind and seizing each new day
Beyond and back I'm still the same
Kicked over some old trash but I still waste
I still waste, I still waste, I still waste
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