Deathbed

Hanging high up on the wall
Where my dreams and aspirations
come to meet up for a talk
And all they ever talk about
are the ways that they can keep me out of it
Now I’m looking for respect
How I love to get her take
Might she offer up an anecdote
or the just right thing to say
I get to love the composition
But the bigger picture’s always hidden by the frame
Stuck in minutiae with nothing to do
But complain to all of my friends
Details are cool
there won’t be in the room
When it’s time to make up and tuck in
to my deathbed
There’s a hustle in the culture
There’s a stone in which I grind
I’ve been spinning wheels looking for an edge I hope to find
In a race that’s never ending
Even though I keep on pretending that it does
Now I’m picking up the pieces to the puzzle that I’ve saw
So that I can then collect them
And put them back inside the box
And in tomorrow’s boredom
I can spread them on the floor and start again
Oh
Stuck in minutiae with nothing to do
But complain to all of my friends
Details are cool
there won’t be in the room
When it’s time to make up and tuck in
to my deathbed
Stuck in minutiae with nothing to do
But complain to all of my friends
Details are cool
there won’t be in the room
When it’s time to make up and tuck in
to my deathbed