hours

hours:

Not So Sure

by Joe Pug


There was a time when I heard you calling out my name
But these days I’m not so sure
When the room went dark and your voice was gone, I heard you all the same
But these days I’m not so sure
I knew I could remember your bedroom and your touch
But these days I’m not so sure
“Definitely” was a word I used far too much
‘Cause these days I’m not so sure

I bummed expensive cigarettes
I wrote John Steinbeck’s books
I undressed someone’s daughter, then complained about her looks
Stealing was so easy then I wish that it still were
Now as I pick my own pocket I know that these days I’m not so sure

The church was my kitchen, the world was my church
But these days I’m not so sure
The choirs I would listen, the briers I would search
But these days I’m not so sure
I sacrificed my sister, I prayed my own soul to keep
I told my dying father that a man should never weep
Breathing was so easy then I wish that it still were
Now as the breeze just makes me colder, I know that these days I’m not so sure

So if you see me tripping, I’ve forgotten how to walk
And I spend my days wishing after her
My steps are without rhythm, and her name is drawn in chalk
‘Cause these days I’m not so sure
I drank my wine for breakfast every morning I was born
In the black electric winter, my back was always warm
Sleeping was so easy then I wish that it still were
Now in my sleepless bedroom, I know that these days
I’m not so sure