Jack Canaan - Staring Down the Barrel of a Word Called Can't

Ipomoea Alba

Tell the angel that's weeping by the door
That I digress as progress sweeps along across the floor
As each satanic whispering around me makes the sound
Of minds outliving lives defying time they echo on

And I still can't face my fear of the dark
And I hunt down new addictions on a lark

The tendrils vines are breeding, seeding in the wind
I stop and look around myself and lose myself again
As a gaping hole of wonder swallows hollow at the fore
And I begin to feel my life away sil-slipping ever more

So I'm staring at the pieces in a book
Of the songs I meant to write but only took

Credits
Writer(s): Jack Canaan
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