Sunday, February 13, 2011

What you do on your own time’s just fine.
My imagination’s much worse, I just never want to know.
What meant the world had folded
like legs and fingers holding onto what escapes me;
what she has: a better kiss that never lasts.

You said, between your smiles and regrets: “Don’t say it’s over.”
Dead and gone, dead and gone, yeah

Calm before the storm set it off, and the sun burnt out tonight.
A reception less than warm set it off, and the sun burnt out

This is me standing in the arch of the door
hating that look that’s on your face
that says there’s another fool like me.
There’s one born every minute, there’s one born every minute.

What you do on your own time’s just fine.
My imagination’s much worse, I just never want to know.
What meant the world imploded, inflated then demoted all my oxygen
to product gas and suffocated my last chance.

You said, between your smiles and regrets: “Don’t say it’s over.”
Dead and gone, dead and gone, yeah

The sun burnt out tonight

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