• I dance and skip
    to the days that will slip
    I will sleep and wake
    to see tears on her face
    a weep and a sob
    she gasps to see
    one last hope of a true
    love that's most consumed.
    I limp and lye
    as her
    sweet
    sweet
    words
    that slip through
    those plane white teeth
    "You're only my
    mary weather
    my
    sweet
    sweet
    girl."
    so here
    I stand
    cold and drenched
    I stand alone
    to no ones consent
    no hope of me here
    but to take a step
    out in to the cold
    unknown where
    once i became.
    so here I say
    "Heres
    to you
    my
    mary weather
    and thy will
    be at thy grave."
    as the
    sweet pour
    of rain
    rushed though my vains.