Drunken Choirs
Well I pushed away the anger, welcomed loneliness instead,
And those tears just kept on coming, flowing more than they did ebb.
And I cried a little harder, I’ve been beaten half to death.
And poetry made motion in the fingers of these hands,
Each melody, a memory, every word a whispered stand.
But deaf ears rarely notice and they never understand.
So I’m trying to get home,
To the mirrored man I know.
Well, she’s just not fond of memory like she was just yesterday,
And she don’t love me anyway.
So I wept with lonely echoes and drank with lively friends,
And distraction served salvation ‘til the beer was at its end,
And drunken choirs of promise might raise me from the dead.
And poetry made motion in the fingers of these hands,
Each melody, a memory, every word a whispered stand.
But deaf ears rarely notice and they never understand.
Well Natchet spit me wisdom, with a side of open hands,
And an empathetic heart song that carried me to stand,
Amidst the unsung wreckage well, I’m rising from the dead.
And poetry made motion in the fingers of these hands,
Each melody, a memory, every word a whispered stand.
But deaf ears rarely notice and they never understand.
Lyrics Submitted by Charles Everson Crowe
Lyrics provided by https://damnlyrics.com/