THE WEAKERTHANS - (PAST-DUE) lyrics

rate me

February always finds you folding

Local papers open to the faces

Passed away to wonder what they're holding

In those hands we're never shown the places

Formal photographs refuse to mention

His tiny feet, that birthmark on her knee

The tyranny of framing our attention

With all the eyes they're eyes no longer see

And darkness comes too early you won't find

The many things you owe these latest dead

A borrowed book, that check you didn't sign

The tools to be believed with be beloved

Give what you can to keep to comfort this

Plain fear you can't extinguish or dismiss