The Order of the Seasons

I turn to the booze and my thoughts turn to you

But I’m not blaming the drink for the things I do

A matching tattoo with a girl you don’t see:

Your best friend that you think of as enemy

With mine in the bar, boring on about xGI stare at my phone, I am willing you text me

You sleep on the South Coast, with a boy who’s milquetoast

I’d eat him for breakfast

I look above me there’s a dirt cloud.

A grand piano, fraying rope

When the halo slips, we beg instead

Give us this day our daily dread

While the happiness ain’t certain, you know the heartbreak’s guaranteed

When the halo slips, we beg instead

Give us this day our daily dread

My thoughts turn to you, so I turn to the booze

I’m only blaming myself for the things I do

Shame comes quick and it won’t ever pass

I watch a Berocca fizz in a dirty glass

Summon the spit, swallow my meds and my vits

Would your blood run cold, from a birthday wish?

You leave or you’re powerless, a cream-getting sourpuss

My sweet words are curdling

I look above me there’s a dirt cloud.

A grand piano, fraying rope

When the halo slips, we beg instead

Give us this day our daily dread

While the happiness ain’t certain, you know the heartbreak’s guaranteed

When the halo slips, we beg instead

Give us this day our daily dread

It’s been many years, since I played a high line

They ask you how you feel, you say “I feel fine”

The order of the seasons depends on when you’re born

I start count in Winter, and heading for a Fall

It’s been many years, since I played a high line

They ask you how you feel, you say that you feel fine

The order of the seasons depends on when you’re born

I start count in Winter, and heading for a Fall