It's 4 am

It's four a.m., and I've got some hard work to do.
Or maybe I don't. Maybe it's simple.
Maybe it's as simple as you do or you don't.
Maybe it's as simple as the sunrise.
Could be as simple as the walk from the bedroom to the computer.
Well, maybe I could make a list
write down all the pros & cons
Maybe I could offer my heart to the divine
and let the fiery finger start writing the Law on my heart
Maybe I could talk it out with a friend

I know you don't know what I'm talking about,
but perhaps you're listening to your heartbeat
and it's four a.m.
and the air is sticky with yesterday morning's rain
and the clock you bought at a garage sale
is ticking off the morning
And - I don't know -
could be you've got a painting of a skull on your left
a picture of the boy jesus in front of you
and it's four a.m.

Maybe you don't know what to think
could be you don't know how to start that list
It's possible that you've lost whatever scale
it is they use to weigh the pros & cons

Oh, i'm just aching and world weary and tired
and my fingers are suffering from paranoia
my eyes are strained by inner editing
and i'm talking to a screen

i can't hear you, but i know you're nearby
i suppose i feel your breath
i suppose i know your song
as it opens the morning

but i don't know and it's four a.m. and words are betrayers
inner judases, tempting me to stay awake
even though i'm tired & world weary and
thinking of you