I'm barefoot, I'm bristling. Solitude on my rooftop, solid. Like there's no more stars. Staring at me. . Who's out there?. I can see the girl. Across the way.
Sunday, always hard to get to sleep. When weird noises are implying threats. On cold sheets, I sweat. . On any other day. It's all rest and flowers. And a long night of nothing.
Snowin' in July. My girl's mouth on my toes. Complainin' old ghosts. In bedsheets of love. . Christmas in my legs. A strange start to summer. But I gave it all up.