some crazy fucker carved a sculpture out of butter. and propped it up in the middle of the bonanza breakfast bar. and i am stuffing toast and sausage into my pockets.
sitting in my glass house. while your ghost is sleeping down the hall. watching the little birds fly. kamikaze missions into the walls. think i'm going to stay in today.
State trooper thinks I drive too fast. Pulled me over to tell me so. I say out here on the prairie. Any speed is too slow. I miss Brooklyn I miss my crew.
Going once, going twice. Sold to the girl. Who ignored all the advice. Of all the people who knew her better. She just stood there. On the front porch.
A throat with a heart in it stuck in traffic. A ticket and a mind to fly, an alarm clock still drunk and high. Sanity painted her mask on all the way across town.
It was good. Good to see you again. Good to meet your girlfriend. I'll try not to wonder where you are. When you go outside to kiss her. In the front seat of your car.
I love my country. By which I mean. I am indebted joyfully. To all the people throughout its history. Who have fought the government to make right. Where so many cunning sons and daughters.
Thank you. For letting me stay here. Thank you for taking me in. Thank you. For the beer and the food. Thank you. For loaning me bus fare. Thank you for showing me around.
I heard the sound of your bike. As your wheels hit the gravel. And your engine in the driveway, cutting off. I pushed through the screen door. And I stood out on the porch.
The sky is gray. The sand is gray. And the ocean is gray. . And I feel right at home. In this stunning monochrome. Alone in my way. . I smoke and I drink.