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