Hope tomorrow
The weepiesTrees in bloom when the northern country
is covered in snow
A windy fitful day in winter
charging toward the Ides of May
The climate now is cling to splinters
We hold hands while we work and play
and hope tomorrow is a sunny day
Where we live men are women
Women are teenage boys
and everyone wants to look like them,
but be like men
A windy fitful day in winter
charging toward the Ides of May
The climate now is cling to splinters
We hold hands while we work and play
and hope tomorrow is a sunny day
Rubens would have loved you
and painted you that way
With your pen and paper,
paying quiet attention to a lady with a plastic face
So thin, so thin she might blow away...
A windy fitful day in winter
charging toward the Ides of May
The climate now is cling to splinters
We hold hands while we work and play
and hope tomorrow is a sunny day