"In Like April."

Days like bad eggs again.

Wake up and pick up hollow shells,
break em over batter-
days like bad eggs are simply getting badder.

Hold my hand and walk with me in days as long as snakes days like bad eggs again,
days are what we make.

Days like crab grass never cut,
swollen, crying, old.
The summer tried to kill them all but it's still so damn cold.

Days like you and me this time.
Of course it's coming home.

However they melt we knew that they would puddle by our feet.
Until days get shorter faster and we can complain about the heat.