Blues after the Resurrection

 

You would think the bloom
Is just beginning, but blood
Is in the red, last summer
I dunked my head in the blues

 

Believe it or not, I still bruise
Too easily, still in the morning
I run around looking for bread
For the body, I hunger and break

 

Too easily.  Ask me what I am
And the sky dreams a freedom
I’m just used to this becoming
Weeping the new me, the revolution.