I cracked the code, it was never me,
It must've been that day you tried to crack
My head
With your jumbo bodied
Guitar,
The day I jumped out of (y)our moving van
In Middle of Nowhere, Pennsylvania,
Sat on the grass by the howling
Highway, only to discover I had no lighter.
That's how I lost my passport and all the possessions
In my wallet, trying to find that lighter,
And not even the smooth relief
Of a cigarette on a cracked head
Came out of it.
...
We made it to the festival by midnight.
You said that I sat on the left to show off
My bumps and bruises,
A lump,
As big, as blue,
As a beautiful mountain at dusk.
Come to think of it, I did;
I wore my wounds
Like a distance runner
Wears a medal after crossing the finish line.
And we sat there drinking shine
Among the others,
Under the silver halo of a glorious moon.
"Another shot please, for the girls
With The Peace"
...
Every time we fought we lost
Something precious,
The amethyst in Vermont,
Our voices
On the roads of New Hampshire;
I remember the day like the scent of perfume,
Early blue, clean as sunlight,
Battling each other with icepicks for daggers,
Fragile minds, our life
An eggshell,
Screams piercing the morning like shards of glass,
Or the day I lost my birthday Vans at the resting stop in
Binghamton, New York,
Where half my body dangled
Out the door, flailing like a pig
That knows it's being slaughtered.
You gripped my feet,
Tossed my shoes
So I would not run,
But if it wasn't love,
What was it that you were trying to keep,
Holding on like a blood stain to white sheets?
It's ok, I didn't know how to tell you
I didn't like them anyway.