FROM THIS WINDOW

From this window everything is kind of fuzzy
And the golden sun glints off the dust on the pane
And the hot whisper of summer’s last spasm
Blows the dust into my face.

You can’t expect too much if your demons drag you down
Your hands are much too clean for all the shit you been dragging around

From this window all I see is the top of your head
What time has rendered thing
Ignorance has fed
You can’t believe in too much if your eyes are fastened shut
Your hands are much too clean for all the time you spend slinging the mud.
From this window I fall down beside you
I spit on the spot where you stand

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