Windowsill

Crows calling early this morning
Sent me stumbling out the door
No direction no way of knowing
Where I’m headed, what I’m headed for
Ocean in the distance
Looks like it might spill
Over the edge of the valley
Up to my windowsill
Gamblers love to lose
They don’t trust the wind
It blows them to the top
It blows them down again
Moon in a mud puddle
Sunset draped upon the hills
I can hear the people shouting
From my windowsill
Envy is the currency
They’ll try and pay you in
Truth isn’t always a welcome guest
In this house of cards we’re in
Ocean in the distance
Looks like it might spill
Over the edge of the valley
Up to my windowsill
Up to my windowsill
Up to my windowsill