I hold them back with earnest distractions.
My eyes are soon wet with my timeworn woe.
Whether the skies are grey or all aglow,
I see nought that might be called attractions.
On most days my tears are ready to flow.
The world spins round and makes a baffling show,
Dancing to songs of dissonant factions.
My eyes are soon wet with my timeworn woe.
Hurts come and stay and are so slow to go —
Some tangible but others abstractions.
On most days my tears are ready to flow.
Loneliness is part of the fiasco —
No one sees my dull dissatisfactions.
My eyes are soon wet with my timeworn woe.
When did I come to this rotten borough?
How did I lose all in all transactions?
On most days my tears are ready to flow,
My eyes are soon wet with my timeworn woe.
