Date with the Night
"We're sweating in the winter"
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Till I'm numb to the very bottom, I can sit and wait or smash my face. Then dream some nightmares and incomprehensible lyrics. I could pretend I'm singing them and mouth myself some words just to impress you. You can watch me, or pretend too. There is everything but the two's company, and my companions complain for some comprehensible lyrics. "I think his friends are stoners," she said. And I don't care why, for her reason is no longer mine to hear. Even the irrelevance busts through its significance.
I over-use, over-play, over-run the words in my book. They have driven me deranged to the same point and perimeter. The same way of tone and waves impatience.
I'm graceless, left my manners to cancel that out. I don't grow the same fruit as my neighbor, nor do I tend the lawn and garden.
If all but to sit and wait or smash my face, till I'm numb to the very bottom.
Down to the last nerve, even that had given up on me...
I over-use, over-play, over-run the words in my book. They have driven me deranged to the same point and perimeter. The same way of tone and waves impatience.
I'm graceless, left my manners to cancel that out. I don't grow the same fruit as my neighbor, nor do I tend the lawn and garden.
If all but to sit and wait or smash my face, till I'm numb to the very bottom.
Down to the last nerve, even that had given up on me...
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