Clearing My Head - 14.09.2024

Changing chords is such a chore
The sounds don't come out quite right
	Making my blood boil
I put on my heavy boots
	And my green bomber jacket
		And go buy some beer
The air outside is chilly
The leaves haven't turned gold yet
	But the sky sure has
To think just seconds ago
	I wanted to stab someone
		With this useless knife
But it's such a nice evening
How can a season's tail-end
	Be so bloody lovely?
Oh, maybe it's the alcohol
	Lulling me into this dreamy mood
		As I sit on this bench
Or maybe it's the northern wind
	That's slowing down the train of my thoughts
		With its sticky black bile
Whatever it is, I don't care
How could I, when the setting Sun shines
	Right on my weary face?
How could I, when these flocks of birds
	Getting ready to get out of here
		Fill me with such feelings?
Bah, to hell with my crappy guitar
	My Eddie will sing someday
But a dusk like this one
	Is only for today