my eyes don't do what I want them to anymore

I hate to say it, but my book won't even the score

bricks are hard and soft beneith my feet

heart and tears keep the same beat

and even though a year isn't much of a past

I like to think I couldn't see through the glass

I had a couple of dollars and a ride

I shouldn't have taken that long to decide

still want the pair of boxers that I wore

kept white package to my breast, and went out the door

and though a year isn't much of a past

I like to think I couldn't see through the glass

car went bounce, tears put up a fight

but didn't have a chance to cry that night

the moon soars past my eyes

the ocean silently cries

and even though one year isn't much of a past

I like to think I couldn't see through the glass...