Calendar Days

when hope is gone
we drag the pond
and try to look beyond
the dead end of summer
there’s a haze hanging over the town

so hide your eyes
ignore the flies
and try to act surprised
it’s the dead end of summer
when all of the grass has gone brown

oh, i’ve been x’ing out calendar days
there’s a pattern to our time apart
do i still exist
in the bottomless pit of your heart

thrown or fell
it’s hard to tell
the baby’s in the well
at the dead end of summer
you better prime the divining rod

we’ll drink unitl
we drink our fill
there’s all this time to kill
at the dead end of summer
with the bugs singing louder than god