Hello, stranger
You remind me of someone, a jangling lust
Pouncing on a sliver
Of a dusty pool of light
Your fire's hue
Is a maraschino cherry
A room-temperature eye
Back-lit by the bar
Your tongue a chewed straw, you're all period blood and soundcheck blues
Both armpits ripped and a lucky horseshoe pinball bruise
You're not quite in proportion
So you've stayed in motion
Ever since your longing outgrew you
Stepping and re-stepping until it is a run
Over and over, on the same platform from where you begun
Like someday this one-horse town
Will pull itself out of the station just to follow you around
You're the real destination
On a boomerang counter
You crash the keys, "Coffee, please"
A word of advice, from here in the daylight
Stay off the high road, it's a sneering code
It's a lazy border boundary to "I don't wanna know"
And we never will
Trash like us
We can't even spell
But we're impossible to kill
Just self-destruct, closing time never comes
Closing time never comes
You love boys and guitars and girls and trucks
The way you move fills me with envy and wonder
You somehow live free of men's eyes?
Even with a bell on your collar, they don't find or define you
Slip that noose in an arc so whip-sleek and steady
You fill me with envy and wonder already
Somewhere between saying and screaming, you chime
"Oh, I, I'm going to live a real life
With blood and dirt and the subway for dessert
'Cause there's a feeling I've never met
And if it's gonna eat me alive, or use me for its fuse
I might as well walk it home in time for tomorrow"
Might as well walk it home in time for tomorrow
Most of all I love you
Because you don't pretend it doesn't hurt
Waiting for the world to catch up
And see you for your worth
As more than just a neutral tarp to compliment the gleam
Of some glossy martyr's meat?
As a contrast high? A graphic feast?
Your compact in the gutter
Mingling with the slurry of cigarettes and needles
As more than a housewife, a has-been, or just somebody's lover
A housewife, a has-been, or just somebody's lover
A housewife, a has-been, or just somebody's lover
Closing time never comes
Closing time never comes
Oh, I, I wanna live a real life
With blood and dirt and the subway for dessert and more
So let's tattoo the morning paper to their driveways in our gore
There's a feeling that I have never met
And if it eats us alive
We can still be on time
For tomorrow
