work left undone

i live to work, i work to live
i write some songs
that's all i give
to all the opaque angles that i've seen
some dressed in blue
the others in green

i wrote a book of nursery rhymes
hid a face
concealed the crimes
that plague us, old and new
as she stands in glory
without a clue

so lift up your glass
my merry ones
to those who have lived
and their work is done

her beauty gives her a lonely heart
dressed in green
with no where to start
in a world that values virtue true
as long as it is
memories of you

it is another smokey night
she says it's ok
but it ain't right
to follow a path without a glass
containing a drop
of jagged tenderness

lift your glasses
my tender ones
salute those bedside angels
whose work is done

i wrote in dust with a lamp of tears
limping softly
through her fears
that fill the sky and heal my flesh
as you hate and love
and pass the test

you wore a dress of basic blue
and a locket
that mentioned me and you
but it goes no where on this cloudy night
stung full of love
that's winning the fight

lift up your glass
my little ones
to nursery rhymes
and the work left undone