The sputter and blink, a streetlamp

Makes you taller then shrinks you then splits you in half

So you're trailing yourself

On the walk to the pay phone



Your pocket's weighted down with quarters

in the hope that no ones home



You spray paint cinnamon on vines

And key the cars you pass by

Your ears burn and your voice don't sound right



So you spend the next week playing weekend

Rollin' three men alone in the dark in your kitchen

Your apartment can't talk, so it's safe for your secrets



All the stories you've invested with a masochist menacing meaning



Those tired tricks that you play

To graft a life to your name

And you know It's not yours but for now it's okay



You wake and cut your initials in cheap glass

To mark a space for yourself when you're time here is passed

And you're drifted and done, trading danger for distance

And all those rocks that rope your neck

are finally nameless and weightless and faceless



And you'll strip the sting from those stains

That bleed the life from your face

And your cheeks will burn red on that pure perfect day