walking down the street on freshly fallen snow
deep and cold it fills my socks wherever i may go
trudge out to my car to clear anothers way
darkened candle waits for me to light another day
wife stayed home from work excited about the white
that drifted high between the cars sometime overnight
something needs to break and something says it's her
don't crush her tender spirit with deeply hurtful words
do i think i'm better as i'm wanting more for us?
what of her desires? do they matter much?
still here feeling awkward needing friend or two
best friends are south of here always beent he truth
i do hate my job: feeding uncle sam
i didn't choose to be here but i still find i am
just the thought of leaving not caring anymore
find my place to be on some distant shore
still my wife's at home where i long to be
to sit and find the special there inside of we
if i want it bad enough and maybe i just might
i'll stop pretending, praying, turning out the light
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