My Kind
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Sometime last spring I'm talking to a friend
Shadows mark time, we leave the porch and go for a drive
Pull over, take a walk through the vines
This time last year, I saw her everyday
He says unfazed, I never see a lump in his throat
He carries all the boulders he knows
Ask me what's new, I'm barely getting through
I say the job gets tiresome, but I'm doing fine
Sending wishes back to you and your kind
I drive back home, by now it's getting late
I know it's trite, I'm feeling like the worst of my kind
I'm feeling like the worst of my kind
I do not know why you've got a hold on me
But you got a hold on me
But you got a hold on me
Half of the time this is what I pantomime
Pointing at something alive
Pointing at something alive