Promises we made

There's a piece of my mind lying on the floor
next to the letters of your pen.
In my moment of weakness, I should have asked for more
but I couldn't think of who, let alone of when.
Everyone that I've known has walked out that door
always dwelling on just what might have been.
And I could feel the ground shaking and hear the battle's roar
and I wasn't about to go and risk that again.
I'd known it would happen, but not like I was told
it's just that so much sadness can leave one feeling old
and all those nights I'd stood out in the cold
made me think I already had paid.

And what about the promises we made,
what about the promises we'd made,
I thought it might last but it's all in the past,
but what about the promises we'd made.

Someone had to try to get back to that place
and you were fast asleep, as you said.
The wind carried your name, but not really your face,
all I could see was the back of your head.
The flood waters rising, left me with that taste
of the bittersweet success of being dead.
It wasn't really passion and it wasn't yet disgrace,
just a journey back, like the one you'd led.
But now I'm feeling something in these empty hands,
It's hardly warm or giving but it will get me through this land,
'cause time is just a notion based on falling leaves and sand
and it's cutting me like it were a blade.

And what about the promises we'd made,
what about the promises we'd made,
they still bring down, both your sight and your sound,
and what about the promises we'd made.

Now, I don't mean to sound spiteful,
reciting those words you had spoken.
It's just I wish I had been more insightful
and protected my heart while the promise was being broken.

I took the last train out of this town, but it seems it is never too far.
Call it paranoia, but it still gets me down
under sky's full of blue or nights full of stars.
But at the end of the line, the sky had turned brown
and the station was smoking and charred.
Don't say you’re sorry, don't lead me around,
it's not like I'd forget so quickly, just who you are.
Something there happened that I can't explain,
it's all in the past now, with the tears and the rain,
and soon I'll forget you like all of my pain,
already you're starting to fade.

But what about the promises we'd made,
what about the promises we'd made,
tomorrow at dawn we both will be gone,
but what about the promises we'd made.


© 1988 & 2005 Steven Clotzman - all rights reserved