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Tica Douglas
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Mornings
Sunday morning 9 am the softest time of year
The polish men outside my window crack open another beer
It's only after nights like those in early days of spring
When I am sitting on my own that I can fade into nothing
Disintegrate my body, and there's nothing where it sat
And no one's ever known me and no one's ever any worse for that
And no one's any worse for anyone or anything
On mornings after nights like those in early days of spring
I was there to listen to what you had to say
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About the pain of losing love, to make it go away
About the pain of losing you in someone else's day
And how hard is the way back?
Well how long did you stay?
I stare at my hands and I repeat that I 'm awake
The sun is hitting me too sweetly for my soul to take
Everything moves slowly and my head it starts to swim
On mornings after nights like those in early days of spring.
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