I guess it couldn't last -

this burrow that we keep

this haven from the feast



We hear them in the day

we see them in our sleep

you said you wanna leave



You want to see the world

and figure out what's left

I know what I saw I want to rest

We got breakfast cereals galore

but you say the milk's gone bad

I'm thinking, "Is that a metaphor?"



You say what at first felt safe

now feels trapped

and making love in this place

is just a tribute to the past

but I have no complaints -

I block out the screaming

with the sound system found in the back



I say the problem isn't us

it's a world insisting on itself

but you insist there's no health

to be found just eating off the shelf



You put your hand on my heart

and push me back a little

like you want to be apart

or maybe want to make it start up again

Baby, I know that I'm starting to act just like them...

numb,

spent



I feel verbally inept

I can't say the reassuring things that you need me to say

so I just say, "It's killing us to fight this way,"

and you reply,

"What killed us was a succession of ordinary days"

And I resent the past tense

I wanted to defend the thing

but now we're hearing shots from the roof

and here this clean army boy drops through the vent,

calling you by name!

If this is rescue, then why'd you look ashamed?



There is no greater pain than the misaligned break -

the varied healing tempos of the giver and the take

and here I'd suffered at the thought of her on her own

but all the while my love had been servicing the telephone



There is no greater pain than the misaligned break -

the varied healing tempos of the giver and the take

when you can't syncopate your process

with the one who leaves,

you focus less on your direction

and more on your speed



I see blood and gore

and love turned war

You want to see for yourself?

Baby, what for? What for?



He hands me a flare gun

I promise to join them soon...



There's shooting on the roof,

a chopper taking off,

the pungent smell of rot

I look up in time to catch one fall into the shop -

she didn't close the hatch!



Gnashing in a pile then rising to its feet,

I fire into its teeth



This one is just a scout!

In a few short breaths the ceiling's raining mouths