Summer and Ben Howard
Too much time on my hands
Has me doing things
I know I shouldn’t
Has me thinking things
I thought I’d left
Behind.
If my mind is a river,
My hands are bridges.
If my heart is the ocean,
My hopes are dead weight.
If my soul is the rain,
Fear and guilt are the roof
Above my head,
And all the Battles I’ve waged
Against myself
Have been for naught, it seems,
Because I’m losing the War.
My compass points north. I
Know it does. I know it.
But my feet are chained to the ground.
My feet are chained to the ground.
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