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Here's a place we all pass through - not always voiced.


I look past the pictures on the T V screen.
They move and change. I really don't know why.
I'm too tired to guess. Don't know what they mean.
I drift away to where I cannot fly.

Memories and longings, drifting through the mind.
'Used-to-bes' and 'maybes', flit like butterflies.
I'm too tired to stop it. Let it all unwind.
I'm not sure what's foolish, and what's wise.

Looking in the well, echoing and still.
I don't have a bucket I can use.
Effort is too much. I can't even touch.
I'm too tired to even have the blues.

Watching all the pictures - pass across the screen,
I don't even wonder what it's for...
much less find a reason explaining what it means,
or if it even matters anymore.

I'll just go to sleep. Let it all roll by.
Wonder if God ever feels this way ?
I could understand. No need to wonder why.
But then - tomorrow is another day.

When sun shines in the well, then it's cool and still.
Maybe I can find a bucket then,
to water this poor empty soul, and feel the heart's remembered glow,
even join the living once again.

( © 1998-"Future Folk" Music - Betty Curtis )

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