Glasses - Jonathan Coulton

Shed the days like skin

Pray for evenings in

Hold their hands in the street when you walk them off to school

A box too full to shut

Cardboard paper cut

Bleeding edge of a picture of your parents when they were cool

So much to say, I forget to start

There goes a day, fading as it passes

Forget the grey, let it fall apart

It’s okay

I like you in glasses

Shovels in the sand

A playdough wedding band

A drowning princess in a tangle of towels on the floor

An old familiar ache

The little pills we take

The thoughtless kindness of a coffee cup waiting by the door

It’s on the board

Someone’s been double-booking

I’ve got time

How is your next week looking?

House shifts into place

A little breathing space

The radiators and the floorboards will argue while we sleep

There’s water in the walls

The stairs make waterfalls

Down in the basement the soft sound of a river digging deep

I like you in glasses