Yesterday morning upon my waking
Inside my pocket, I found a calling card
It said in cursive "Meta-detective"
And had a number I didn't recognize
It rang all morning and in the evening
I heard an answer. It sounded like a sigh.
It was a woman on the receiver
(she was a breather)
I said i'd see her because you never know
She said she'd meet me under the marquee
Of a theater that was abandoned
She ran up to me and leaned in closely
Whispering softly, she told me how I would die
She spoke in cipher and coy conundrums
Her hair was like lightning and smelled like thunder
Ending our rendez-vous, she said "Rappelea-vous?"
And with a pirouette, she disappeared and I said,
"You never know"
I'll let you be my eyes if we fly
I'll let you be my eyes because I'm blind
The rain flies into out mouths while our heads fly into the clouds
Artist: Marshall Crenshaw
Artist: Charlie Parker
Artist: Tom Russell
Artist: 702