sickly surrender to cola remember machines shaky somnambulist shiver out all your screams go to the room with the chair and wait for your life scared
kid i held you with these arms that felt so hard you kept your chin up and i held my guard made a prison bed from a life i never led let me correct these
I'm a long list with no time, sunset panic on the street. Sugar and light bulbs, the milk of kindness is behind us now with all those stones in your coat
do you know what would be good right here? some yellow a touch of humility, an original sin or two half the math double the myth they told you to no aftertaste
words in my head atom splitting up the twins rocks inside my head again keeps me from your bed sends me errand boy at swim to drag my lake for scars
Headlights and red eyes, a warm beer between your thighs. Mess of pills, Hollywood hills, the red lights. Read me my rights. Going in a circle, getting
there's glass in this rug tiny splinters pass all just missiles to bloodstream the lead in water collects in liver all just signals inside me pass me
starry configurations am just a receiver divine recombinations am just a recordist receptionist - unhappy medium receptionist - unhappy medium excellent
Caught making conversation to your teeth. Kite high in Tuesday ether. Been gone all week. People live for such a long time. Eighty years to get one right
The terror of the view, the emptiness of this room, always writing against this truth in the way that a painter must have a surface to hit. The paint
Mom and dad can't remember if I told you how glad I am I finally got to know you. Years from when we met, after I left home. Let me sing you sweet and
when you become a stranger again how closed your eyes will be narrowing me to three short feet across a room of drunken revelry youre having the time
Blooming black flower wine. Slashed arms and new cut smiles. Taller for the falling down. Stronger now without you around. The prophecies were realized
maybe some day we'll meet again when our two roads hit the same dead end and o-oh i'm counting the days 'cause you've got something that i've never since
Oh hair of dread, the time is here. Thirty-three, the sheep draw near with eyes so keen they cannot hear all the lies that buy their ears. Oh, horsepants
the curtain's a sea anemone in the way it sways to the slow breeze I lie spread out on the floor looking at these things and most of them are yours and
The road tonight is cold with ice and no cars pass by. Thank god for no phone call. Just snow and a fire. December endings and since you sent me things
tasting you in rain I walk down to the train try not to look down this day could some day be an anniversary