My girl came home to me just the other day, acting ok.
I was reading alone in my favourite room, the tv was on.
May I be excused for not telling the truth
’cos she’s gone, she said she’s better off on her own.
She turned her head much better off on her own.
My girl knocked on the door to the place I usually refer to as home.
I died, shoelace untied she looked in my eyes, small and surprised.
And God closed every gaze the moon fell into the lake.
Boy, she’s gone, a drift she’s better off on her own.
She closed, then she left much better off on her own.
Sitting naked by the windowsill watching cars upon the hill.
Am I sleeping?
I was dreaming for just a moment time stood still.
Better off on her own, better off on her own.
Now she’s gone, she said she’s better of on her own.
She turned her head much better off on her own.
She’s gone, she sighed she’s better of on her own.
The tears I cried much better off on her own.
My girl came home to me just the other day. |
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