all those times of high riding,
throwing trash out of the car windows
pretending the world wasnt fragile and small;
plumes of smoke reflected in sunglasses
i about how a castle falls off the cliff
and stones go down into some waves;
i didnt have enough gas to get us home,
you're in my head, on the phone,
saying "my baby my baby"
the sun is steering slow and crazy like someone
who cant get the fog off the windshield,
hopefully no one will ever love you because you are weird, sad, or lost
they were listening to nostalgia songs in the coffee place
the bathroom smell reminded me of when i was at camp in the woods
with screen doors and moths flying in circles around a light
and the little boys have pissed on everything possible
all these troubadors gathering around a dim fire
they each wishes that they were alone, so they could dream of families
without anyone else seeing their lonely coming out between the holes,
at the very least they put their tears to good use and put out the fire
its about 4 times a year that i find myself crying,
i mix it in the recipe with the bright colors, patterns,
rain running around the pillars, chicken fights,
the steam goes rising off of the pot
and the spiders hanging on the ceiling,
all swaying a little in their houses
being stupid and having good intentions
has never done anyone much good;
to be the burden of smarter, more careful people
but i'll go by there sometime
they'll pay me,
traffic lights light up my room
and all the lads
all the lads were on tip toes wearing sleeping bags
headed for the kitchen, where the pot was steaming
each of us has our own cup, we mix the pot, yes we mix and spit
you crazy diamonds, you days, i always fall for your traps
bad things happen because i make bad decisions