| we met one day in wet cementwhere we glued our eyes shutand pressed with our fistsand while the trees are shrinking nowthey forgot their rootsand sloped in the groundand while | |
| I'm picking out my favorite nameswhere our future is concernedin the steady blur of the dayswhat brought us here, why we try to saywe face back all the waynow the cement's hardened in my chesta world of waxscraped in through textand someone was calling just before | |
| I woke upmy broken record spits good and bad luckand with my broken, pale black eyes | |
| I still see white when the snow falls lightlyin the steady blur of the dayswhat brought us here, why we try to saybut we face back all the way |
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