I don't want to run around, run outside you kitchen.
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In the front yard, outside where the children play.
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Sandbox drifting in the land outside your missing.
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Sail until Sunday just till the evenings gray.
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It's Easter, the sun & Cecilia.
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I don't want to lie against duck-tape cracked or crooked.
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In the out door, left outside in the rain.
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Bus ride longing for the face that I've been missing.
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Seventeen looking for a day I long again.
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It's Easter, the sun & Cecilia.
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-----------------
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Easter
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| The Prize Fighter Inferno |
