Guggenheim Jam OLD

I let my morning slip away
Thinking things I know that I should throw away
I think that I lost a month or two
But here I am, oh mom, I must be pulling through.

I know my winter's gonna pass
I believe all I did was all that I had.

With my own hearts
In my own skin
By my own hands
For my own kin.

I think I'm finally getting straight
On some things I'm sure I'd come to far too late
All on my own
All on my own