(grant hart). . Jenny gave us a number. Jenny gave us a place to stay. Billy got hold of a van. And then we moved the very next day. To twenty-five forty-one, big windows to lay in the sun.
If there's one thing that I can't explain. Is why the world has to have so much pain. With all the ways of communicating. We can't get in touch with who we're hating.
I see the sun and I see the calendar. The days go floating by so slowly in a blur. I read the numbers and I discard everyone. I burn my fingers on the pages of the sun.