Sand In An Hourglass

© 2013 Mark Cote

you measure your smile
by some sense of wealth
some abstract sign
of your mental health

you measure your style
by something you're not
for a tail that is chased
never gets caught

(chorus)  but in the bitter end
                  in this life we pretend
                  it shall all come to pass
                  and in the end it never lasts
                  we're just sand
                  sand in an hourglass

the hands that you shake
the ones you befriend
they may only be
a passing trend

the tears that you drink
the smoking cigar
won't represent
the who that you are

(chorus)
(instrumental)

you can't read a book
if you don't write it down
with no common sense
the wisdom of clowns

the jokes of lies
that fly like leaves
are all swallowed up
by those who believe

(chorus)