Oh, commit to your sins and your prior engagements, stick to them like when you picked up cigarettes,
ow dance around houses falling into beds,
don't you justify to me what's wrong.
so darling what is wrong?
A calendar dresses like a clock,
with robes of black, and spinning hands,
it calculates time through falling sand.
its never that precise
The measurements although obscure, act as a guide throughout the year,
leaves fall on cue as does your hair,
don't waste away your time.