Down

Sundays I think about your light
That shines even upon the night
In the huge darkness of the den

and out of ten, I get a ten.

Mondays I wonder if the sun

should come and get my things just done

so we can try, so we'll be fine

and out of ten, I get a nine.

Tuesdays I worry of the day,

the moment we will go away

and if we'll handle all this weight

and out of ten, I get an eight.

Wednesdays I think about the rose,

the flowers you'd never call "gross"

and wonder if I'll see you again

and out of ten, I get seven.

Thursdays I know that we will grow

and just get tired, and just turn old

and I'll stay with you when you're sick

and out of ten, I get a six.

Fridays I know the sacrifice

will move our ground and roll our dice

but I don't care, I will just dive

and out of ten, I get a five.

Saturdays I know that one day

You'll have to stop and put me away

but I'll be knocking at your door

and out of ten I get a four

Sometimes I guess that I'll be low

shattered and lost, but you won't know

and I'll tell you, still you won't see

and out of ten, I get a three.

On days I think that after that

I'll be alone, behind and sad

and you'll have nothing left to do

and out of ten, I get a two.

Often I worry that my dream

will be destroyed, and you'll hate me

and I will have to be on the run

and out of ten, I get a one.

Some days I know that I will die

in midst of all the truths and lies

and we will be burned by the sun

and out of ten, I just get none.

But still, there's hope that we will last

and prevail over blood and dust

and we'll fly on top of a dove

and out of life, I get your love.