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about
Another from 10th grade or so
lyrics
The Forgotten Language
G Am Em G
My empty hands hold nothing but the air I guess that’s something
Lower my voice so no one can hear me talking
The words are the mess the ego and the spillage
And humble is the forgotten language
My empty hands hold nothing, no fingers, no money
My hands pick up a lighter, melt every fleshy bit to honey
To touch more but myself feel less is the perfume and make up I put on when I dress
My bitter mouth, shouts this goodbye
Can you people let me enjoy myself, at least let me try?
Happiness is high tide and always swept away,
If it feels the urge to leave then, why should it stay?