Changing seasons
With a broken fist
Another year gone by
Just like this
There’s no surprising me
Or anyone
Oh, I know
Just how it’s done
Oh, I know
Just how it’s done
Her picture hung
Upon my wall
Until its glass sprayed out
Through my front door
Oh, I held back
And for the best
I keep on cleaning up
This kind of mess
I keep on cleaning up
This kind of mess
Sometimes I think
That maybe something’s wrong
I’m never really ever missing
Anything, or anyone
Some things are gone
And not forgotten
Some things that are forgotten
Aren’t gone
Some things that are forgotten
Aren’t gone
The other night
On the kitchen floor
I sat and listened
To the radio
I haven’t cried that hard
In a long time
Maybe it means
That I’m all right
Maybe it means
I’m doing fine
And I ain’t mad
Been feeling pretty good
Although this glass
That I have danced upon
Is now stuck in my foot
And I’m laughing
At my swollen hand
I’m always in the ring
Shadow boxing
I’m always in the ring
Shadow boxing
Sometimes I think
That maybe something’s wrong
I’m never really ever missing
Anything, or anyone
Some things are gone
Yet not forgotten
Some things, they are forgotten
Aren’t gone
Some things that are forgotten
Aren’t gone
And I ain’t mad
Been feeling pretty good
Although this glass
That I have danced upon
Is now stuck in my foot
And I’m laughing
At my swollen hand
I’m always in the ring
Shadow boxing
Always in the ring
Shadow boxing