Ah!
let`s `fess up to
firecrackerjack snacks
and a piggy bank built
and filled to be spilled and broken
hammy fat fingers
pinch clammy cold coins
all the leaves left
wither a sickly brittle brown
I`m dying to tell you I`m dying
I don`t need a reason
You`ve got yourself such a comfortable trap
yes I am talking to you
yes I know this is shameless
yes I am talking to you
You`ve got yourself such a comfortable trap
[Spoken]
A matinee of sunshine ribbons
on a sheetless mattress
moonlighting as swooning
moonlight isn`t really from the moon at all
I am shining smiles and flowery glows
I am drunk in the breeze
in the park chasing kites and splashing puddles
forget meknots in my gut
that`s what you get
we nibbled butter cookie rings to the knuckle
artichoke trophies choked down
through nevada sandy enzymes
past ribs choking scorching hearts
down to an autotrophic stomach
I called her june, until that late spring
quite possibly march leap year
automatic trophies aren`t shit