Spilling -

Here we sit, you’d a thought

That a bomb made of books and clothes and pocket things

Had blown in my apartment

Me and my guitar

Oh how we’ve gone very far

And now we’re seated at the bar

To drink what she is pouring

Sometimes when she pours me to the top

I think that I might be spilling

Sometimes when I think that she won’t stop

I just hope she doesn’t willing

Armoured yellow pads

No. 2's and battle plans

All my maps are in my hands

But I’m still lost

Dream in colorfast

Like running past a photograph

Catch the moment if you can

Before it’s gone

Sometimes when she pours me to the top

I think that I might be spilling

Sometimes when I think that she won’t stop

I just hope she does it over and over