Why waste your time on dismay?
But the questions persist
and the questions insist
and it's been a long stretch
I haven't felt any closer day by day
The dismay tells me
I'm doing it wrong
and though I trace it in song
there is some strong way
that I simply am not free
the anger that flashes
the depression that sinks
is a man what he thinks
or just the transient spiral
as he stirs up the ashes
I listen to the song my gut sings
troubled and roiling
avoiding or toiling
and nothing but tomorrow
the joy, the dismay
that it brings
what
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