Lyrics

Desert

In my sleep I find
A crowd in the open
Laying open a path to follow
Where out of the stark and sterile
Grows a root

There it is my Jesus
In a puddle of wax
Staunch out in the desert—
—Sticky and fresh
I touch it’s skin
And I am refreshed

Wilted From The Sun

I imagine you
Bent up like a straw
Your shirt untucked
Fingers wide to the wall

Wilted from the sun.

Oh, how I’ve envied you
Thinking that you knew
And dreamt and now you dreamed
That you still burn
The way you did.

Lips like they drank wine
Skin flushed out an bleached
Feet half out the end of the bed
Wrapped up in a mess of white

Wilted from the sun.

But you never will
The way you could have
The way you might have should
The way you should have been

Nail & Skin

We could talk this out
With brief kind words
Let the hooks fall out
And then be on our way
Just the way we always could

Doesn’t it feel good?

But haven’t you thought that maybe we’re wrong?
That we’re not not wearing it down
That everything is wrong?

I know the way it’s got you pegged
I know because I am nail and skin—
—Flaked and broken off of you
So maybe could ask,
Doesn’t it feel like everything is wrong?

Awake

Wake up.
Come out of your sleep.

You’d wake up.
If not for the mess
If not for the sleep
You’d lift your limbs
And awake.

Petal on a Rose

How are you going to do this to me?
After all I defended you.
You, my petal on a rose.

Green & Brown

It spreads on dull orange
The lamp next to the chair
Filling up the room
Like a tank to swim in at last.

It’s there he sits and he talks
But words can’t busy my mind
Stuck on something I thought
I’d known but somehow forgot.

Stood in black leather shoes
With a softly wearing tread
And some fancy socks
I’ve had for years

Wearing out a shirt
Rolled half up my arms
There I stood in the dust in the evening
And I watched it burn.

The smoked fattened up
As I smelled the wood ignite
The paint bubbled and dripped
The glass shattered in piles

Oh, to have to consecrate
Oh, to have to sell it away
For a loss.

Someone’s already told you to make
The most of the time you have;
To glean the juice from the rind
To be more prudent with your time.
But that is just the thought that grows
The itch that becomes regret.
And then you’re just the cuckold they laugh at
Standing backwards
Courting the dust.

Slow

The house was now paid off
The ivy and moss
Crept upon the bricks and settled in the cracks
Mornings made him wince
But the evenings were sublime
Walking along the street
Pretending to be a cat

The sun shone bright that day
Amplified by dew
The emerald painted glass shone through the window
As he made their eggs and juice
The taste would ease the piercing day

They ventured in the yard
With calculated steps
In the flower patch
the soil was soft and moist
Though they loved their plants
Things were made quite clear
The leaves, the vegetables, the photosynthesis

Each night the air would cool
And sweat would taste so sweet
The air would push lightly on his chest

When she hit the ground, he didn’t move an inch
He just looked at his hairless legs and rubbed his hands
It was time to wait, perfected to an art
When the evening came, he’d go sit on the porch

And wait.

Bullets from a Gun

Arrogance does not become your face
Drop the reigns
And be someone who stays out of the way

Take the stage with your flag at half staff
Words fly out
Like bullets from a gun when you were eight

Threatened by your stately crossing leg
Smile and nod
Don’t try to undermine them
With your grace

If you don’t learn to yield to his ways
He’ll forget
And squash you like the bug you know you are

I suppose you don’t want to have to see them
Run and hide like little mice

You have to be cautious
Don’t ever make a cross
and string it to your head

I’m the one who wants you dead
With your shiny comb
I’m just going have to take you down

I’ll cut out my tongue
Fix you a plate
So you can know just how
I have to taste you in my mouth

I’m just trying a way that I can
Set things up to have control

I’ll have to careful, won’t ever make a cross
And string it to your head

Just don’t try to take what’s mine.

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