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You pack your sweaters for the fall |
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And the flowers die in their garden rows |
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And the warm words can't help at all, |
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Everybody knows... |
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You're trying to find a compromise |
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Between remembering and learning to forget, |
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So now just pouring a glass of water |
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Is like trying to move boulders with your breath. |
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It's so hard to see it all, |
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She tries to hold you in the night, |
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But you're shaking you're crying out, |
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Praying for sleep to bless your bedside. |
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That's right, so it goes, |
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The whole world folds over you. |
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Pack your handkerchief and your best shoes... |
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Reconciliation of guilt and grief, |
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It's the hardest battle you've tried to win |
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And now every year you grit your teeth |
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As it cuts you underneath your skin. |
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Oh and Sunday mornings don't bring you solace, |
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You are firm in your disbelief |
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But you hold tight to that old promise; |
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You are waiting for the spring, |
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You are waiting for the spring. |
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That's right, so it goes, |
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The whole world folds over you. |
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Pack your handkerchief and your best shoes... |
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Don't leave me breathing, |
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No not alone, |
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There's so much more I meant to tell you. |
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I went by with flowers, just to see, |
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But that granite told me you're still gone.... |
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Don't leave me breathing, |
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No not alone, |
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There's so much more I meant to tell you... |
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I went by with flowers, just to see, |
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But the granite told me you're still gone.... |
