Oleander


Born a little soon, raised on too much moon,
learned to get by on Leave me alone.
Be the restless one, be the burning son.

Then you filled your hands with oleander and
all the strippings of pride gone astray.
All that secret work, all those pretty words
that still don’t hold you

Now you spend your days in the dappled rays
of his love like a fern in the shade.
In a world of green no one’s ever seen

and oh it holds you.

© 2008 kris delmhorst/big bean music/ASCAP