To Whom It May Concern by Tiffany Hulse
To whom it may concern, I’m falling to pieces.
I’m counting on reason, to intervene you see.
One day I’m walking on air, the next day I’m unwell.
Riding a carousel, head’s spinning âround and âround and âround.
There’s a songbird on my windowsill, he’s so misunderstood.
He wakes me up every morn’, with the thought of something good.
No matter which roads I take, my life is still a tease.
Some say it changes directions more than the most playful sea breeze.
So you take a little chance, and then you arrive there at the top.
Never knowing if or when, this ride will ever stop.
Uncertainty, yeah it really is a friend to me.
Something in your head tells you, it’s just not meant to be.
One day you’re looking up, the next day you’re looking down.
Oh, won’t somebody help me, with this life that I have found.
Nothing ever is, what it appears to be.
You just can’t seem to fight it, but you surely can agree.