Not So Sure

NOT SO SURE

There was a time when I heard you
Calling out my name
But these days I’m not so sure
When the room went dark and your voice was gone
I heard you all the same
But these days I’m not so sure

I knew I could remember
Your bedroom and your touch
But these days I’m not so sure
Definitely, was a word
I used far too much
These days I’m not so sure

I bummed expensive cigarettes
I wrote John Steinbeck’s books
I undressed someone’s daughter
Then complained about her looks
Stealing was so easy then
I wish that it still were
Now as I pick my own pocket
I know that these days I’m not so sure

The church was my kitchen
The world was my church
But these days I’m not so sure
To choirs I would listen
Through briars I would search
But these days I’m not so sure

I sacrificed my sister
I prayed my own soul to keep
I told my dying father
That a man should never weep
Breathing was so easy then
I wish that it still were
Now as the breeze just makes me colder
I know that these days I’m not so sure

So if you see me tripping
I’ve forgotten how to walk
And I spend my days wishing after her
My steps are without rhythm
And her name is drawn in chalk
Because these days I’m not so sure

I drank my wine for breakfast
Every morning I was born
In the black, electric winter
My back was always warm
Sleeping was so easy then
I wish that it still were
Now in my sleepless bedroom
I know that these days I’m not so sure

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