I dont want to run around, run outside your kitchen, In
the front yard, outside where the children play, sandbox
drifting in the land outside your missing, Sail until Sunday
just till the evening grey, Its Easter, the sun & Cecilia, I
dont want to lie against duck-tape cracked or crooked, In the
out door, left outside in the rain, Bus ride longing for the
face that Ive been missing. Seventeen looking for a day I
long again.
