Grasp - Widower

i’ve been in denial for a while now, but i’m coming around

i’ve been blowing in a weird wind, wayward as a Greyhound

you took my grief with a grain of salt, it was difficult, it was all my fault

a long distance phone call from Philadelphia, i was drunk and i needed to talk

but once i had you attention, there’s so much i meant to mention

there’s some things that i have come to understand

you were dry land, i was a drowning man

they say the safest place is a basement in a storm

well darling during downpours, you were my cellar door

well, i half-assed, i gift-wrapped a piece of shit

i was the bearer of bad news, your worst birthday present

that forlorn uniform you fold, and your ice cold eyes rolled

there’s something things that i have come to understand

you were dry land, i was a drowning man

they say the safest place is a basement in a storm

well darling during downpours, i was so self-absorbed

and time will tell if the hand your dealt is worth a damn

there’s no knowing in advance, and the one you held has lost it’s grasp