Slip Through My Hands - The Parlor Mob

Mother, Mother

I can’t take another

Moment here the way that it is

Heartache, heartache

It’s a fear I can’t shake

It heals and then it’s broken again

The things I love seem to slip through my hands

Like a big red balloon or a grain of sand

But I see the future through the eyes of the past

Still I somehow want to make this last

They say the darkest hour

Is just before a flower

Opens to the light of the sun

And you’re my reason

My softly changing season

Tell me I’m the only one

The things I love seem to slip through my hands

Like a big red balloon or a grain of sand

But I see the future through the eyes of the past

Still I somehow want to make this last

Still I somehow want to make this last

All my life I’ve been fooling myself

Trying to make the wrong things right

Like a birds against the cold hard wind

Trying to find the end of the night

The things I love seems to slip through my hands

Like a big red balloon or a grain of sand

But I see the future through the eyes of the past

Still I somehow want to make this last

Still I somehow want to make this last