Everyday
On the first day of the week,
I walked into your room,
I pulled the blinds and let the light shine in.
You were in the middle by your bed,
And hanging from a rope,
With a note tied around your neck.
And this is what is said:
Tomorrow, on Monday, you'll put me in the ground,
And cry the tears of sandness that will come.
And the next day, on Tuesday, you sit there all alone,
And think of me and your mind will be so numb.
Then on Wednesday, you'll clear out my room,
And fall alseep in the middle of my floor.
When you wake up I won't be there,
And then you'll cry a little more.
When Thursday rolls around,
You'll have no more tears,
And all my things, they'll be gone,
Along with all the years.
All the sad, some happy times we spent,
Will seem so far away,
But you'll be there and I'll be gone,
And you won't want to stay.
Friday seems to hold a better time,
When you can put me out of your mind,
And start your life again without me by your side,
You'll try and put the past behind, and I will be denied.
Saturday, then Sunday, it'll be a brand new week,
And I'll be but a memory to you.
But you'll see me in the window pane,
And wonder what you'll find,
And then you'll have to think of me,
I'll be in your mind.