Weakerthans - (past-due) Lyrics 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 their

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 cheque you didn't sign. The tools to be believed

with, beloved. Give what you can: to keep, to comfort this

plain fear you can't extinguish or dismiss.