My dreams, my tears, my hopes, my fears. Yearning love I immerse. My world in a verse
Sunday, April 7, 2019
Until It's Washed Away
© 2019 Mark Cote
is it just a dream
never knowing what I mean
that seemed to be so real
made me question how I feel
talking to a wall
you don't know me at all
dusting on a grave
something I could not save
(chorus) thought it was you when I turned my head
but it's the grim reaper now I'm dead
I couldn't walk away
from what I heard you say
now it seems that it's all through
what was old now is new
until it's washed away
by tomorrow or yesterday
until it's washed away
Sundays are left undone
a race cannot be won
I'll keep it to myself
how the clown really felt
(chorus)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment