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
