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The Many

de Richard McGraw

Here's to the corners yet to turn
Here's to the bridges yet to burn
Here's to the whole thing blown apart
It's open season on my heart

Days go by like flying bricks
Leave gaping holes too deep to fix
I'd stay home if I were smart
It's open season on my heart

I can't blame anyone but me
For the wretched fool I've come to be
My tired excuses just don't fit
It don't look good from where I sit

I've tried to change without much luck
I reach a point where I get stuck
I hit the streets the fireworks start
It's open season on my heart

I can't be something that I'm not
I can't give the things I haven't got
I don't know where or what or when
I only know the shape I'm in

Here's to the bum down in the mouth
Here's to the whole thing going south
My own true love turned poison dart
It's open season on my heart

Here's turning heartaches into art
Here's to where target practice starts
I hit the street the fireworks start

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