years have passed of me sitting still
on my couch waiting until
a glimmer of hope a shimmer of shine
a slight indication you will be mine

deep lethargy with deeper inertia combine
morose malaise to pass melancholy time
wasting my life surfing away
or is there more than could be done today

what if I am a bad artist how would I know
who will tell me the unkind truth to show
what if my true love is right now crossing the street
my laziness will never cause us to meet

I give up it’s all in God’s hands
God is kind of a metaphor who does understand
why people think and what people do
and why they write empty love letters to you