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Lemon Tree
I’m fused by my mind and the time it takes to take my break
There is none unless it’s a down Through the roof and past the sounds Of the birds chirping The children playing And my mother singing to herself in the bath. I am not the last but the first of many more to come, My rum is not yet done, but ill sit here and ill sing Ill sing of days that have gone Ill sing words that mean nothing to no one And mean everything to me That’s still just me, I’m sitting in the tree where my father built me a house And it is no longer there, And it was a lemon tree And the thorns scratch and gash into my thighs My sighs are mostly silent now. My sighs are mostly silent now. I will let the world commence once again, I will let my brother be my son and I will try my best to be his father, And this time he won’t leave him, And this time, even though I am a heathen I will not abandon this man that doesn’t need the pain, For there is so much more to gain now that we have no help, And precious less to loose all though it’s value is somehow greater now. With the diminishing of a family our soul’s grow together now, And yes, we are weak, we are weary, the battle has not been won, It’s not even close to finished, My lord, It has barely just begun. And there is little precious fun, Besides my rum. |
