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Nothing

Nothing’s at work, like trying to eat soup with chopsticks

The logic’s mechanics suck they need a bottom to top fix

Can’t pick up enough to satisfy my hunger

Meanwhile the clock says I ain’t getting younger

Seems to be the way the story goes for us romantics

Stare at the wall and try to connect every little bump

Can you create an image, not me I’m so easy to stump

Blurred by pictures we painted above

Over miles of distance with love

Nothing says nothing and nothing gives my throat a lump

Nothing’s at work; it’s not for me, it just boils my blood

Only so many times you can bite your tongue and chill on bud

Cause you know it just don’t sit

Not a little but every damn bit

Everything needs to wash over nothing, like a flood

Cause nothing don’t please me

Nothing can’t hold me

Nothing can’t tell me

I love you

No nothing

needs to be

done

Tim Windisch

01 09 2026