The Children.
1/05/02
You pick us up and deliver us
to your horror and your torture,
show us your planned future,
then take us back again like a
bad trip we can’t completely remember.
And I try to forget the children
I try to forget the look in their eyes
I try to deny what I know you’re up to
I try and ignore the bleak future you
continue to drill into my mind.
The allowance of ignorance
in the space between your visits
allows me to slip you into
the category of a dream,
then it bursts free into reality
when yet again
you pick us up and deliver us
to your horror and your torture,
show us your planned future,
then drop us off again;
a round trip with emotions dismembered.
And I try to forget the children
and how they envy our petty lives
I try to deny the coming changes
and I try to deny that I see them
down here sometimes.
Hiding behind these mundane faces
I see them look in my mind
they remind me I'm a part of this
and all else I live to deny.
Your hope is not just floating
up there with you anymore
it's down here breast feeding
and carrying tote bags and riding
the school bus.
There's just no escaping it now.
Maybe a smile can be my Atlas and hold up
the sky it seems is doomed to fall.
There's just no escaping you now.
And I don't know where to go from here.
1/05/02
You pick us up and deliver us
to your horror and your torture,
show us your planned future,
then take us back again like a
bad trip we can’t completely remember.
And I try to forget the children
I try to forget the look in their eyes
I try to deny what I know you’re up to
I try and ignore the bleak future you
continue to drill into my mind.
The allowance of ignorance
in the space between your visits
allows me to slip you into
the category of a dream,
then it bursts free into reality
when yet again
you pick us up and deliver us
to your horror and your torture,
show us your planned future,
then drop us off again;
a round trip with emotions dismembered.
And I try to forget the children
and how they envy our petty lives
I try to deny the coming changes
and I try to deny that I see them
down here sometimes.
Hiding behind these mundane faces
I see them look in my mind
they remind me I'm a part of this
and all else I live to deny.
Your hope is not just floating
up there with you anymore
it's down here breast feeding
and carrying tote bags and riding
the school bus.
There's just no escaping it now.
Maybe a smile can be my Atlas and hold up
the sky it seems is doomed to fall.
There's just no escaping you now.
And I don't know where to go from here.
