Better Days

I held the rooftop of a callused thumb In the field where the cotton buds bloom Any shred worth of dignity cast like a bastard born son Hanging pictures in a 12 x 12 room The dust in the corner was where I would lay my eyes Though they burned to pull that sunlight from her face Between highway 2 and reality was where our romance lied But for a moment she would free me from this place Better days will come Better days lie awake with the dawn Better days will come Throwing cards to the one hanging on We rode the interstate looking for a single song And held nothing but that weight behind our eyes Where a man works there is identity But we've been working way to long What is identity when the spirit slowly dies He came down from the Northwoods And he was begging hard to roam His family was a distant second prize Any step toward uncertainty was one that was far away from home His best intention at the root of every lie Better days will come Better days lie awake with the dawn Better days will come Throwing cards to the one hanging on And in a low lit room of good conscious My knees nail me to the floor Every day that passed hangs its number on the wall My eyes flood blind with memory as fear slithers neath the door And the temptress holds indifference above all And then She whispered to me words the were written long ago And placed my hand to feel the rhythm neath her breast And when she kissed me I leaned into her words like a child who aches to know My reclamation through my voluntary yes Better days will come Better days lie awake with the sun Better days will come Throwing cards to the one hanging on