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far far
away
wounded
trade-ins
before you
shelter
stubborn kindness
a falling
    star
sing with
     me
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the fairground 
blind enough
    to see

TRADE-INS - Lyrics

 

 

"Trade-ins on anything,"

says the sign that swings above the yellow door.

It makes me imagine what I'd leave here on their floor.

Could I trade in this illness

of coveting the things in life that shine,

for a pair of better eyes that will value what is mine?

 

Can I turn in this anchor that keeps me so conformed,

for leave to laugh more, perhaps cry more,

and to learn to spill the wind of scorn?

 

For my life is filled to bursting

with all that I have held valuable,

and there's no room for living, no heart for giving;

perhaps it's time I turned these values in,

though fearful to begin.

 

Could I trade in the age-war

for sense to accept what cannot be kept away

and welcome each season for its virtues in its day?

Let me earn less and live more, turn style in for simpler joys,

take days long and peaceful, let go of all this noise.

 

So I'll begin with the heater

and take a fire throwing shadows on the floor

in whose light I can rush less and muse a little more.

 

For my life is filled to bursting with all that I have held valuable,

and there's no room for living, no heart for giving;

perhaps it's time I turned these values in.

Life's true treasures, I'm told, are never sold,

but there is more to trade-ins than all the sway of gold.

© sparrowland 2008