counting sheep

You make me want to sing the blues
untied my shoes, tied 'em up again
You make me want to laugh. Loud
I stood in the crowd. But I didn't stand out
You make me want to cry before I sleep
as if counting sheep wasn't painful enough
I close my eyes, try to forget
but you can bet, that I will remember
You've made me like a hollow bird
just say the word, and I'll float
I blink.
I think, maybe this time
I stare at my empty hand
Maybe he'll understand, but I doubt he's real
I'd wear you like my favorite shirt
you'd treat me like dirt, whatever
I'd knit you a scarf for winter days
you'd say it's just a phase and throw it out
I like to whisper your name at sunset
You'd rather caress the frets of your guitar
I light candles in remembrance of you
You say we're through, without saying a word
I raise my glass, I raise my fist
I'm pissed to say the least
You made me want to sing the blues
untied my shoes, threw them at you
you made me want to laugh. Loud.
I stood in the crowd. And laughed as I walked away
You made me want to cry before I slept
but now I've kept count of those sheep
and you've fallen short.