Friday, February 17, 2012

St. Augustine

Can I revise the page of November, when she left me behind that old hospital door?
We all have our stories, some are sad to remember, some are maddening reminder of who we once were before.
But tell me what you see, from high above the trees.
The less that I want, the less to remind me that everything wanted is just more to regret.
St. Augustine will you lay your hands on me and heal my head?
Something unseen, something inside me, twisted mad like a bone through a bone seeing red.
I walked all around with a sword pointed toward me, asking me if I chose to be alive or dead.
But tell me what you see, from high above the trees.
The less that I want, the less to remind me that everything wanted is just more to regret.
St. Augustine will you lay your hands on me and heal my head?
But tell me what you see, from high above the trees.
The less that I want, the less to remind me that everything wanted is just more to regret.
St. Augustine will you lay your hands on me and heal my head?

-Girlyman (written by Dorris)

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