Given recent history
concealing twisting knives
it's not your eyes
that set me off into another pardigm
it's when you speak to me in Russian
with a tin can for a phone
it sounds like the apocalypse
of our innocence reborn
Souvenirs, black coffee, beers
8-day old key lime pie
Racing through the threshold
under shot up Mojave skies
but when your Aunt Martha came
she slipped to me her key
and that night we made it rain arcane
once you passed out from the mead
Crawling through the garden
chewing on snakeberry vines
swallowing the poison
heaven weighing on my mind
if God could only see you now
dancing with the damned
He'd kneel right down beside you
and kiss your wedding band
Oh no...
(and it goes something like this)
(but much much louder)
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