From somewhere came a yesterday
As tomorrow's memories are apt to be
And flaunted lovely feathery thoughts
(Music wounds the mouth of sorrow)
If you think of all the yes's that you noed
And the time you thought that up
Was sideways, you find that
Music borrows cups of mourning sadness
As you drift along the gentle stream
Where water wades among the leaves
And trickle down your thoughts
Mourning mouths the wounds of sorrow
Still grains slip down the funneled glass
And all the yes of yesterday is
Fitted with a halter and ridden until dusk
(funny how music flows from the wounds of sorrow)
You come to realize as moments do
That tomorrow beckons in silent laughter
And yesterday haunts with halting echoes
And music wounds the mouth of sorrow.
