Sunday, June 14, 2009

No time, last one, let's go


Mothers hands were lined with dirt
From long days in the field
And mothers hands are serving meals
In a cafe on this street
With mouths to feed
Just trying to keep clothing on our backs
And all I hear about is
How it's so bad??
It's too bad, it's too bad
Too late, so wrong, so long
It's too bad that we had no time to rewind
Let's walk, let's talk

You left without saying goodbye
Although I'm sure you tried
You call and ask from time to time
To make sure we're alive
But you weren't there
Right when I'm needing you the most
And now I dream about it
How it's so bad, it's so bad

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