Eleven Months

Another Sunday evening
Whole work week stare me down
Cigarette is burning
In my fingers tainted brown

On the table there's a list of things
That I'm supposed to do
Instead I sit for hours
Feeling bad a little pissed at you

Winters come and gone
And I ain't moved a finger yet
Been sitting here drinking
And I'm not sorry
Though I'm feeling just a little bit spent

See I cant seem to convince my hands
That its time to pack your clothes
Or talk my feet into walking those boxes
To Sally Ann at the end of the road

Not seen much of my friends
I'm not taking calls from kin
Not wanting to answer questions
About the kinda shape I'm in

Winters come and gone
And I ain't moved a finger yet
Been sitting here drinking
And I'm not sorry
Though I'm feeling just a little bit spent

There's flowers in my hallway
They been there for a while
A stack of well meaning cards
All sitting neatly in a pile

Eleven months sitting
And I just cant get it straight
There ain't no fixing what's gone missing
From where I'm sitting anyways

Winters come and gone
And I ain't moved a finger yet
Been sitting here drinking
And I'm not sorry
Though I'm feeling just a little bit spent