Besedila: Rites Of Spring. End On End. For Want Of.

I?I believed?memory might mirror no reflections on me,

I?I believed?that in forgetting I might set myself free.

But I woke up this morning with a piece of past caught in my throat?
And then I choked.

I bled?I tried to hide the heart from the head.
And I?I said I bled?In the arms of a girl I'd barely met.

And I woke up this morning with the present in splinters on the ground?
And then I drowned.

And if I can't see it?s for want of?you

You said, "I see"
If there's nothing here then it?s probably mine
My?My turn to see?if there's nothing here it will always be mine, mine

But I woke up this morning with a piece of past caught in my throat?
And then I choked.

I?I guess I've learned the taste of days that will always burn.
I?I guess I've learned if it?s in the corner of my eye I can't always turn.

And I woke up this morning with the present in splinters on the ground?and then I drowned.

And if I can't see it?s for want of?you

You