Buried in my blessing, confetti in my hair
A marginal extraction, a tendency to stare
I'm not much more than floating through the well-polluted air
and hoping that the clock slows down its ticking
Buried in my blessing, confetti in my hair
A world of loud derision, and unproductive stares
with naught but steady failures and all lessons lingered there
as I'm praying that the truths, they are a-sticking
Buried in my blessing, heading for the door
I hold a key tentatively to all that lies in store
but when I reach to turn it, it falls onto the floor
and loudly rolls away it's teeth a-clicking
Buried in my blessing, thank goodness that it's me
although the steps I take don't always seem to end alee
confetti clouds my vision, to the point I cannot see
the subtle truth that all I have is exactly what I need
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