Eggs in a Basket

The love is gone if you have to ask it

There will be no sap tapped from a casket

There will be no hands held through the last of it

No hands clasped and bowels felt on mattressesThe love is gone like eggs in a basket

Reading old text threads, covering the date with my thumb

Pretending that you just wrote"I love you, when are you coming home?"

Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.