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Pictures watch from the sidewalk past |
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poems go flying in the tracks |
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all we ever got left is a pile of things |
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I visit you with nothing burning |
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hidden heart, stomach churning |
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circled in the words like the vultures |
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your mouth becomes a dictionary |
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words without a holy theory |
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you're the only one on the page |
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look it up to find my heart |
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tear that old shit apart |
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till you find the words to sum me up |
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I don't need no lullabies |
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you sit me down here and you cry |
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the music man sings his mystery songs |
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he tries to put his finger on |
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there's things unfelt that he's always longed to feel |
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the things we all are destined to loose |
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while I seek out that crooked muse |
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you stole my heart and filled it up with blues |
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I've been waiting for you and me to watch this world from a windows seat |
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Look down there, all them tiny creatures running crazy |
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and I've been here on this precipice |
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and I picked apart anything I bring |
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so we can toss our suitcase into the wind at last |
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we've all the merry things we needed |
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it's time like this we remember to believe |
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let it roll, let it ride, let it ride on me |
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Lay me down here in your field |
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they know just, what they steal |
