Sundays and Holidays
What do you think in the back seat
Travelling through the yellow open state

What do you think in the back seat
Travelling through the yellow open state

Am I too slow to turn my thoughts to words
To turn meaningless to meaning

Am I too down to notice smell and sound
And to tell dull from bright

Let the sad winter moon turn slow to my future

And the cool dark air cover me in my nearing bed

Where angels men and mothers
Get to spend

Their sundays and holidays

Where curtains hide the ugly scenes inside
From the rest of us

What's inside
Brick walls of divide

Barred window screens
Hospital
Not a love scene

I still
Not a calm ocean

What's inside the brick walls of divide

Barred window screens
Hospital
Not a love scene

Hospital
Not a calm ocean