I don’t know and I don’t see,
and if that’s seen as limited
well then that’s alright with me.

why does every hand I hold seem to fall or slip away.
Why does every word I hear neither comfort nor persuade.

It’s as if you decided not to show,
and now I feel like your useless lover,
but I will never let you know.

Like a windswept bag snagged in a highway tree
you’re a thought that’s caught in a tangled part of me.

It’s this feeling of being left behind
that seems to want to bribe me
to become cruel and unkind

and if I do, it’s not on you
it’s a product of time.
you just seemed to have me,
when that me just wasn’t mine.