(Past‐Due) Songtext
von The Weakerthans

Febuary always finds you folding
Local papers open to the faces
Who past away to wonder what they'er holding
In those hands were never shown the places


Formal photographs refuse to mention
His tiny feet that birthmark on her knee
The tyrany of framing our attention
All the eyes their eyes no longer see

And darkness comes to early you wont find
The many things you owe these latest dead
A borrowed book that check you didnt sign
Tools to be believed with be beloved
Give what you can to keep to comfort this
Plain fear you cant distinguish or dismiss