Tender

Seven crows in a dying tree Woke me up at dawn Like a black Cadillac with the windows down Already gone Already gone, gone, gone, gone, gone, gone Sleep, sleepwalking on a tethered rope Leaning on a dream And a need to feed the reader every word I wrote But didn't mean Man it gets hard to lay your anger down And it gets hard to make a tender sound And it gets harder keeping me around Don't I know it Is it real, this feeling? Did I believe it into being? Am I really reeling? Cause it gets harder every season And I sink deeper down, down Man it gets hard to lay your anger down And it gets hard to make a tender sound And it gets harder keeping me around Don't I know it Man it gets hard to lay your anger down And it gets hard to make a tender sound And it gets harder keeping me around Don't I know it Don't I Don't I Don't I Don't I