Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Dust to the Ceiling

(to More Than a Feeling)

I woke up this morning and the light was gone
Turned on the light switch to find my way
Couldn’t see squat through misfiring neurons
I stepped on some shoes, and I tripped away

There’s dust to the ceiling
(dust to the ceiling)
When the room looks like an odd, old puree
(dust to the ceiling)
My paint is peeling
(dust to the ceiling)
Why is everything blocking my way?
I can’t see anything, get out of my way.

Many excuses have come and gone
My Swiffer sweeps, then a year goes by
Yet I still recall the color pecan
What once was tan is now a gray fungi

There’s dust to the ceiling
(dust to the ceiling)
When the room looks like an odd, old puree
(dust to the ceiling)
My paint is peeling
(dust to the ceiling)
Why is everything blocking my way?
I can’t see anything, get out of my way.

When I clean and am feeling bold
I sweep cobwebs, and I find doorways
And dream of time I used to know
Where a maid would come in and clean Fridays
She cleaned Fridays.

There’s dust to the ceiling
(dust to the ceiling)
When the room looks like an odd, old puree
(dust to the ceiling)
My paint is peeling
(dust to the ceiling)
Why is everything blocking my way?
I can’t see anything, get out of my way.
.
©2009 Warren Baker
.

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