it's just something about how he holds his glance
and the glare of his eyes makes me want to cry,
but I wouldn't dare - for fear of his woman, for fear of my pride.
I guess I had never figured he'd tried and he'd died,
but I suppose nothing should shock me so much now,
when all we're concerned with is shutting a door
there's no door-opening here anymore,
so I'll stand and I'll try and perhaps I could die
but it's better to die knowing than living and never trying.

02/06/2001

Posted on 10/26/2004
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