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Playing dead |
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On the unmade bed |
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With the book unread |
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And the New York Times undone in my head |
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Over those words I said |
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To that love of mine |
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That love of mine |
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Of mine |
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So many blessings |
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So little time |
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It's easier I find to dwell on the lows |
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But not her |
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She's a child of the sun |
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She sees everyone |
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Through a veil of rose |
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That love of mine |
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Of mine |
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And in the mirror |
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Of her eyes |
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I've seen my lies |
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And they scare me half to death |
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With their troubles so deep |
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I start to weep at the end of a laugh |
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That love of mine |
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Of mine |
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Oh yes, love |
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The pleasure and the pain |
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A blessing and a bane |
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Blah, blah, and all that |
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I need this like a hole in my brain |
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Like a downtown train needs an uptown track |
