Measure me in metered lines, in one decisive stare, the time it takes to get from here to there. My ribs that show through t-shirts and these shoes I
Measure me in metered lines in one decisive stare The time it takes to get from here to there My ribs that show through t-shirts and these shoes I got
I have a headache, I have a sore back I have a letter I can't send I have desire, it falters and falls down It calls you up drunk at three or four a.m
So you don't get to be a saint Martyrs never last this long Guess I'll never be the one to defeat desire in song Here's a marker, here's my naked skin
Held like water in your shaking hands Are all the small defeats a day demands 10-6 or 9-5 trying, dying to survive Never knowing what survival means
They called here to tell me That you're finally dying Through a veil of childish cries Southern Manitoba Prairie's pulling at the Pant leg of your bad
February always finds you folding Local papers open to the faces Who past away to wonder what they're holding In those hands were never shown the places
Find the airport, 7 a.m. My heart pumping pure mini-bar Sit on the concrete by the carts And some girl throws a dime in my lap You won't be laughing
I changed the oils and oiled the squeaks Patched the holes and fluid leaks Left dust beneath a diabetic moon And way to take the TV crews Across the
When the bus-shelter windows And napkin-dispensers surprise With distorted reflections, it's never the someone You're hoping to recognize And the rent
I wanna call a request through heating vents And hear them answered with a whispered no To crack the code of muscles, slack and tense Let every second
Doctors played your dosage like a card-trick Scrabbled down the hallways yelling, "Yahtzee!" I brought books on Hopper, and the Arctic Something called
Neon lights and slinking purple skies Squeeze out soft regrets from all our lives I greet another door that opens in To that place where we repeatedly
The sirens woke me up again I know they're coming for me someday just a matter of when Count to 25 and yawn Touch the clock and turn my back against the
How I don't know how to sing I can barely play this thing But you never seem to mind And you tell me to fuck off When I need somebody to How you make
Headlights race towards the corner of the dining room. Half illuminate a face before they disappear. You breathe in forty years of failing to describe
The mirrors and the unacknowledged nods. Dial tones and license plates. The words you didn't choose. Everything the day's too small to hold spills on
You always stole all my last words. Here's no exception then, one more for me to send. And nothing happens in the end. I'm thinking of you less, more
