Living Rooms

When did this ritual become so hard

This is all too much

It’s hard to think when every thought is scarred

And tender to the touch

 

This kind of thing it makes me nervous

It feels so dumb to sing

Why in the world would I preserve this feeling

 

In empty living rooms

I used to sit and think of you

I’d write a song or two

And pass the waning hours

 

I’m in the basement where the ground is hard

Trying to stay in my head

My hands aren’t warm enough to play guitar

The kids are all in bed

 

I hope you’re good tonight where you are

I hope you get some sleep

From time to time I hope you think of me