Tired Thing

from by Emma Bowers

/

lyrics

you're tired, aren't you
wind blowing heavy down first avenue
grasping at these golden threads
afraid they'll slip right through your fingers again

hell, I hate it as much as you
and I don't think I'll see it through
it's some distant, cosmic thing
that bleeds the blood we do

so, fine
comb your fingers through the fine, fine wire
by morning I know you'll tire
of holding my hands up to the wall

these rivers lay wide
swallow me whole
I shy away from any hands that aren't his
though I don't know him now at all

coming up short of the sum and the call
funny, isn't it, the thrill of it all

credits

from In The Morning EP, released August 17, 2018

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Emma Bowers New York

is a folk-rock musician based in brooklyn.

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