Sometimes In February

Hands that smell like glue
Jeans that linger with the smell of iron steam
Chipped nail polish and some scratchy ink.
I might be too tired to think.

There's a girl in the country
Who just sits and stares away
There's a boy in the city
Who catches bugs on walks in the day
There's children in the living room
Watching the colors turn to shapes
On a blank screen.

Wouldn't it be nice if we could be happy.
Wouldn't it be nice if we could just sing.
Wouldn't it be nice to get some sleep.

In a room without a view
The walls are yellow and holding true
The businesses, they run us
Up and down, inside out, through and through
The most free is when we leave and
Attack to get the things we feel we need.
But in the end we sit alone.
I don't want to think anymore.

There's a girl in the country
Who just sits and stares away
There's a boy in the city
Who catches bugs on walks in the day
There's children in the living room
Watching the colors turn to shapes
On a blank screen.

Wouldn't it be nice if we could be happy.
Wouldn't it be nice if we could just sing.
Wouldn't it be nice to get some sleep.

We've been distracted once or twice
Forgotten about life
Cried our tears
Dried our eyes
Said goodbye

But say hello to them for me
Wish the colors from the screen
Let the knots work themselves out
Lay down and scream.

I won't think
any
more.