Epitaphs - The Accidentals

He’s got too much pride

Lord, if you could see it in his navy eyes

Life is never painted in the black and white

Or with the gray between

It’s got too much light

Silver coins that tremble in the bruise of night

Moon that blinks before the tangerine

And broken stains of morning sky

And scattered on the birch trees

Are the mockingbirds who disagree

On everything that flits to mind

What’s lost and what’s just hard to find

And blaring on the silver box

Are those who are only there to talk

So I will find a better way to speak

She’s got a new fake tan

Drinking pop culture from a silver can

Staring from her bed into a lava lamp

That bubbles up her thoughts

About money and time

Things that share a problematic love life

They’ll help you cut yourself up with a butter knife

Just when you hit your prime

And scattered on the dirty streets

Are the broken souls who disagree

And beg for what you’re offering

And all the while we’re promising

That rain will fall on fertile ground

There’s no lost cause that can’t be found

So I will find the growth in every seed

Well it’s a sketchy scene

Bottlecaps littering the pothole street

Smoky waves of air in the crushing heat

Of nighttime in LA

And in the local park

Boys flinging curse words into the dark

Waiting for the day they’ll mend their splintered hearts

In duct tape displays

I’m standing by a marble wall

Carving epitaphs of human fault

Why spend my whole life wondering

If I find lies more comforting

How can I invest my faith

If what you give is what you take

But I will try to find the in between

Credits