Ben

1 Sep
0

 

 

Cloud at my door, come in, come in.
Where have you wandered, my friend, my friend?
I have grown weary, I have grown tired;
Every day get up and start a new fire.

But what bothers me most is this feeling I get
That my life is a story that’s already writ;
And that faith has no magic except to forgive-
And if Ben isn’t real, then I don’t wanna live.

See you next Sunday, let me open the door
And you’ll walk down the cobblestone path like before-
Just a fluffy white cloud, one who never asks why,
You just wobble a bit then you climb to the sky.

But what bothers me most is that when you are gone
I stare hard at my hands and tell them to keep on,
Cause you gotta keep grinding and keep with the toil
Because life is just this; it is not something more.

Too tired to struggle, too bitter to give-
And if Ben isn’t real, then I don’t wanna live.

I watch you flying; I watch how you soar.
I know you are a cloud, you are not something more.
And the sky is a flag- something flat, something blue;
And yet you are my friend and I’m a friend to you.

But when I close my eyes all the blue grows so deep
That it drowns me in currents too wavy to sleep;
And I need to decide if the water’s a dream
Or if there’s still a chance life is not what it seems.

Caught between hard things and things elusive-
But if Ben isn’t real, then I don’t wanna to live.

 

Download MP3: Ben

 

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