Winter, Splinters, Cinders & Sheep

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Dean Cutsforth

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Don't take me seriously
I swear, I'm nearly asleep

There's no more sheep
For me to count
I've reached my amount
I've lost my place
In line
For a dream; divine
I twist
I turn
Just for a nightmare
One warm enough for it to burn

I love deliriously
I swear I'm failing to keep

My head below these clouds
My bed, it goes straight down
Right to His keep
What a place
Where all the weak touch base
I beg
I plead
Don't hold me down here
I swear that I'll be better
The cinders of my cold remains
The cinders of my cold remains

Don't take me seriously
I swear, I'm merely a freak 

I sometimes dream 
Of leaves that slice
My schemes; precise
What does that mean
I'm stumped
And when I weep, I slump
I bend
I break
I snap and splinter
When I catch the winds of winter
The freezing cold of my mistakes

How can one be hot and cold
How can one be weak yet bold
I'm deathly tired yet awake, I lay
Directly tied to my own decay
I'm brave
I'm afraid
I wrap my wounds with
A healthy dose of humour
I laugh away all heartache
I laugh away all heartache

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