Inside Today
(©2010 Steve Connelly)



When I wake up, for a moment I’m sure
that you’re there beside me and it’s still before.
Oh, but how’d you get in here? I locked all the doors.
There’s an ache in my heart where it’s still yesterday
like the hole in the ozone, it ain’t going away,
it just keeps getting bigger, obscuring the way
all inside today.

When I wake up and I stare at my cell
there’s no message waiting, no missed calls as well.
Though I could check my e-mail…oh, what the hell.
So I turn on the shower and I take off my clothes,
the same ones I slept in, but who’s here to know?
And you still have my red shirt, you still have this hold
on me inside today.

With a head full of memories and fall-apart dreams
and these pictures I carry around.
All of those promises never achieved,
I got plenty of time for them now.

Now I’m in my car, she’s eighteen years old.
Today it’s her birthday, the day she first rolled
out of the showroom and onto the road.
Oh, but you never liked her, you’d always complain
“These fumes, they’re unhealthy, the seatbelt’s a pain.”
Oh, but she’s still here with me and you’re on some plane
all inside today,
all inside today,
all inside today.