Till We Earned A Holiday

You’re standing off the white church, pitching me three words. It yells a name falling off my list of names. Those crashing lights, life is just like that-it’s easy to forget. We make plans, and for the second I hit cold, as the dirt black night grows close. Who has been painting my roses red? I have nothing to show for you now. I never wanted to play the fool for you. The dead come out as the beautiful ones are chosen. To dance and shout, terrified, and holding onto the one and only thing they every had-a heart that’s not dead, but is dying in their hands. Why don’t you, you ever get tan? You try and try but you just don’t. Your crying eyes they start to bleed-how come I can’t get to sleep? Your smile grew thin as you family talked, arrived singing just a holiday song that didn’t stop until you drank too much. How come I’m so out of touch?