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you're taking up lots of space |
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your shit is everywhere |
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your breath is all up in my face |
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your hands are swarming in the air |
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you're the first one out the car |
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and then the loudest one in the bar |
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tell me is there something wrong |
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girlfriend, what's with this new version of who you are |
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so she lifts her chin and |
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squints at me |
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to assess what I think I know |
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she says my heart has some dangerous neighborhoods |
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so beware where you try to go |
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and they say that the truth will set you free |
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but then again, so will a lie |
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it depends if you're trying to get to the promised land |
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or if you're just trying to get by |
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what is a camera but a box of light |
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what is a guitar but a box of sound |
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you think I don't understand |
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I think I might |
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what it is to |
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to harvest the emptiness |
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and just ride it around |
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and maybe your chest is an empty shell |
|
with ribs of spiraling coral |
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where a perfect pearl of sadness resides |
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but if you ever need it here |
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I could come and press it there |
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and I could listen to the sound of the ocean inside |
