Eleven Months

another sunday evening
whole work week stare me down
a cigarette is burning
in my fingers tainted brown

on the table theres a list of things
that I’m supposed to do
stead I sit for hours
feeling bad a little pissed at you

CHORUS
winters come and gone
and I aint moved a finger yet
been sitting here drinking
and I’m not sorry
though I’m feeling just a little bit spent

see I cant seem to convince my hands
that its time to pack your clothes
or talk my feet into walking those boxes
to sally ann at the end of the road

not seen much of my friends
I’m not taking calls from kin
not wanting to answer questions
bout the kinda shape I’m in


CHORUS

theres flowers in my hallway
they been there for a while
stack of well meaning cards
all sitting neatly in a pile

eleven months sitting
and I just cant get it straight
aint no fixing whats gone missing
from where I’m sitting anyways

CHORUS