Switchboard

Every morning she wakes with the sunrise
The grace of an angel deep in her dark eyes
Hours ago she taught him to smile today
Now he's unconscious hundreds of miles away

Every shade of blood and inspiration

I'm tired of the switchboard, imperfect connections
It's all interference and mostly rejection
The desperate phone calls without any warning
From broken receivers at four in the morning

Running on empty slowly the days die
Singing the same sun under the same sky
I'm looking westward to curse all the states between
Damn the Dakotas, I envy the skies they've seen

Every shade of blood and inspiration



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