Slip Through My Hands

The Parlor Mob

Mother, mother
 I can't take another
 Moment here the way that it is
 Heartache, heartache
 It's a fear I can't shake
 It heals, and then it's broken again

 The things I love seem to slip through my hands
 Like a big red balloon or grain of sand
 I see the future through the eyes of the past
 Still I somehow want to make this last

 They say the darkest hour
 Is just before a flower
 Opens ti the light of the sun
 You're mt reason
 My softly changing season
 Tell me I'm the only one

 All my life, I've been fooling myself
 Trying to make the wrong things right
 Like a bird against the cold hard wind
 Trying to find the end of the night