Cara and me share a cigarette,
try to forget, try to forget,
the cold days that are ahead.
Her head against my cheek,
and some peace we seek,
from the bad shit in our heads.
I tell her a corny joke,
and it was like an angel spoke,
for we could smile in the rain.
Two cigarettes between us,
and it’s an hour before morning bus,
and it’s so hard to refrain
from the though that no one above
could spare us a second of love,
and we’re here to fight alone.
Or that we’re not worth the time
for one who’s seen every sin and crime
and knows our brokenness to the bone.
There’s a news story about a child,
found out in the thick wooded wild
dead and left to rot, innocence taken.
The darkness of people’s hearts,
and how easily all sweetness departs,
has us broken. With child, she is shaken.
I kiss her head, and she smiles, as rain falls.
Somewhere in the coming winter He calls.
In her heartbeat, in her love, even her tears.
She sings a song she knew as a little girl,
about a saint and a princess’s bright pearl,
and I want this peace and innocence to stay.
We’ve been through hell and we’ve come back.
We’ve been to the grave that is so deathly black.
This world will pass to a new, He’ll wipe our tears away.