Saturday Grace
I lie in chances
Cotton white
Relaxed in your fragrance
A scent
No rose could pleasure
After me
Laughter chases
With open arms
It looks
To embrace me
It’s always bad news that saves the day
The sadness that dawn’s upon your Saturday face
A sadder day’s grace
These songs are written
To never be spoken of
Whispers
Lie hidden
Above the trenches we’ve dug
Just like yesterdays disappear
I feel my departure
Is so very near
Secrets trespass
To only remain out in the open, clear
It’s always bad news that saves the day
The sadness that dawn’s upon your Saturday face
A sadder day’s grace
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