02-13-2013, 10:51 PM
[youtube]szVk2LfqDK4[/youtube]
Tomorrow Is October For Me Too
I put you in a sacred cup.
Like a child, I whine
And cry
For you.
Not old enough to drink:
To see into the eyes of a woman,
Grown, with pain.
What she tells me I cannot understand.
But I can understand well enough.
I am as young in pain as the child
They will not take to drink;
A pain as fresh, as the dead leaves each year,
After a glorious summer seen from the inside out.
Yes, from inside.
Because, I am the summer,
The sea;
The autumn, and its goblin's veil;
I am winter's cozy nook;
And springtime's drip Of Saviour's blood.
I am the child that lies within—
That even memories can't save
From the crooked spine
Of your blindness' path.
And you won't come to play with me.
Tomorrow Is October For Me Too
I put you in a sacred cup.
Like a child, I whine
And cry
For you.
Not old enough to drink:
To see into the eyes of a woman,
Grown, with pain.
What she tells me I cannot understand.
But I can understand well enough.
I am as young in pain as the child
They will not take to drink;
A pain as fresh, as the dead leaves each year,
After a glorious summer seen from the inside out.
Yes, from inside.
Because, I am the summer,
The sea;
The autumn, and its goblin's veil;
I am winter's cozy nook;
And springtime's drip Of Saviour's blood.
I am the child that lies within—
That even memories can't save
From the crooked spine
Of your blindness' path.
And you won't come to play with me.