The Weight

Good morning, today,
Good morning, Mr. Grey,
Good morning, let’s say.

Familiar, nestled up and secure,
My psyche wants me dead for sure,
Numb, so numb inside, check my temperature.

Think I might have a case of the Empties,
And I just keep digging, pay my rent please,
Listless and canted, limping so gently.

Broken glass and bare feet, no hero,
Just clumsy fingers and bare feet cold,,
I can’t keep tripping by myself, so fearful.

What your prison cost me to break,
It’s something can’t ever be repaid,
Scarlet toe-prints in snow, heartache.

And I just need my Saviour to come back,
I’m just searching, Beloved’s Voice, my track,
Pining, grieving, bleeding, oh don’t turn Your back!

So long
These days are
So long

When I was young, I put toy guns to my head,
Now, wish I’d never taught myself to wanna be dead,
Today’s just yesterday’s tomorrow, sorrowful bed.

Give me back my vices, my desperation toil,
Return me to my grievance, deep fryer of oil,
Self-righteousness burned away, just a nasty boil.

But I’m out of bed, I’m up, I’m awake,
‘Cause I just can’t help it, too much at stake,
Take medicine so my knees don’t shake.

Don’t mind me,
I’ve been worse, see,
This isn’t to be,
I’m gonna be me,
One day, you’ll see,
I’m gonna be free.

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