Days pass slowly
Bleeding together
Like wet sticky paint
Alone I breathe
And light as a feather
I pass ever so quaint
Sometimes I wonder if anything sticks
Anything I do imprints its traces on the fabric of life
Or if its all an illusion that plays
Like an old film etched on that screen full of strife
Sometimes I wonder if anything sticks
Anything I do imprints its traces on the fabric of life
Or if its all an illusion that plays
Like an old film etched on that screen full of strife
Days pass quickly
Pulsing rhythms
Washed out foot prints in sand
Together we breathe
In deep water we swim
And you lend me a hand
Days pass slowly
Bleeding together
Like wet sticky paint
Alone I breathe
And light as a feather
You pass ever so quaint
Sometimes I wonder if anything sticks
Anything I do imprints its traces on the fabric of life
Or if its all an illusion that plays
Like an old film etched on that screen full of strife
Sometimes I wonder if anything sticks
Anything I do imprints its traces on the fabric of life
Or if its all an illusion that plays
Like an old film etched on that screen full of strife
Sometimes I wonder if anything sticks
Anything I do imprints its traces on the fabric of life
Or if its all an illusion that plays
Like an old film etched on that screen full of strife
Sometimes I wonder if anything sticks
Anything I do imprints its traces on the fabric of life
Or if its all an illusion that plays
Like an old film etched on that screen full of strife