Pressed in a Book

Doted on like seeds planted in rows 
The untied shoelaces of you life 
Nutured all year then presssed in a book 
Or displayed in bad taste at the table 
Problems arise and you fan the fire 
While there's a wild pack of dogs loose in your house tonight. 
Cut from bad cloth or soiled like socks 
Add it up and basically people never change. 

They just talk and make plans in the dark 
Or make haste with ideas that can't help 
But creep good people out 
As you talk to me too much you're assuming 
We don't always want what's right. 

Did i strike the right set of chords? you're annoyed. 
The goal is to ignite you then move on. 
You feel ill at ease. you got no squeeze. 
And the wise cracks won't make you more stable. 
You've learned you lines to scale and to time. 
Why must i remind you now i'm only less able. 
Cut from bad cloth or soiled like socks 
We're ordinary people we can't help but to change 

As we walk and make plans in the dark 
Or make haste with the boy who can't help 
But creep good people out. 
As you talk to me too much you're assuming 
We don't always want what's right. 

Two fallen saplings in an open field. 
Snow padding gently on an empty bench. 
An old woman's jewelry lying unadorned. 
Colo nesting robins allied for the first time. 
I know when you hear these sappy lines 
You'll roll your eyes and say "nice try".