The Microphones
I Was Afraid All of the Day
I was afraid all of the day
I was the bars of my own cage
I woke up in fear and laid
Shielding my face from summer rays

I was afraid all of the day
I got up slow and afraid
Staring off in a fearful way
I went darkly through my day

All of the day, I was afraid
I had no courage and no faith
I became a walking cave
Who once was brave but now afraid

I am familiar with this way
I face this fear, I've been its slave
And each time I've earned a day
I've held the torch, it's gone away

And so what did I hold today?
What was it that broke my days?
Was it the moon or sunny rays?
Was it a bird, was it a face?
Was it presence or escape?
Was it appetite and taste?
What good feeling came my way?
What delight was on display?
Well here I am, at close of day
I'm at my bed and still in shade
I'm still afraid at close of day
My black eyes didn't go away

I was afraid all of the day
And now I look the moon in face
And in my fear, I curse its grace
A waste