Pretty Bad Year

I’m counting the days
And I tell you they’re passing real slow.
Since you’ve been gone
I’ve been watching, been watching the river flow.

I hardly noticed at all
How my toes turned slowly into stone.
My dolomite fingers
Make a clinking sound when I touch the keys of my phone.

No one lets on that they know about this pretty bad year.
They speak in a whispered hush, as they try and catch a glimpse of a tear.
But I’ll be damned if I break down and you won’t see me crack up,
For I know I must drink up every last bitter drop in this cup.

The water’s rising up high,
But I think I’ve thought up a plan:
Gotta build me a boat,
To chase after, chase after the ferry man.

No one lets on that they know about this pretty bad year.
They speak in a whispered hush, as they try and catch a glimpse of a tear.
But I’ll be damned if I break down and you won’t see me crack up,
For I know I must drink up every last bitter drop in this cup.

No one lets on that they know about this pretty bad year.
They speak in a whispered hush, as they try and catch a glimpse of a tear.
But I’ll be damned if I break down and you won’t see me crack up,
For I know, I know I must drink up every last, every last bitter drop in this cup.