morning began and your head popped out
with your heart and your hands
it’s easy to see
why you’d gladly shovel dirt for a fee
but where in the world could a sad, sad, sadder tale be heard
it’s over your head to be good, why be content to be led
now you walk all up and down your street
your head hung down right to your feet
so take the time to carve your name
on a rocking chair with the grain
and wait until the evening sees you there
and though the morning went too soon
you’re headed through the afternoon
so rack brains now
see why you should care, miserable girl
just the result of a miserable world
you start to depend on your longing
for the start of the end it’s always the same
now that life means nothing but hunger and pain
you're passing away
you have nothing but the start of decay
i heard someone said
you’d rather you were dead
