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Description
i'm sitting   in my chair it's dark outside;
   the shutters are all closed the windows are blo w  n open
     (ever since that night i never shut them)
      there's a crack in my ceiling i wonder if it'll
   spread
     across my wall and through my floor  at   some point
   making a  circle
     and cutting   my room(&me) right in
  t  w   o

   there's a cut in my hand it never healed
     it sits gaping open an oozing with
   pus and  blood and
     ink

and the words   you   told me;

in that hotelroom, that night on the third floor with the

water pipes rusting and the old men screaming

out for revenge

like a jack-knived life cut short or denied

and the old lady told us stories of another life

and smiled at us lovely and wide yes lovely and wide

and walked out the door with a grin in her eyes

bright and denied yes bright and alive

and she disappeared out the door
and we never saw her again
   no we could never find her
     because all that she left
       was a hole in the wall that left the wind breezing through
    and the rain coming down
     tipittytaptippteytap

        yes i can't even  remember what i did yesterday;
   because all i can think about is you
     and the crack in my ceiling
  making it's way
     (vascular system)
        to   that
fadedyellowpictureframe crooked and blank yes crooked and blank
   where you once hung that daguerrotype
    of your own fabled self
          strung out
           on deadlines
              and  white-horses
                and holy wine

blazing lights of the cold moving city

or the lonely lament of a field full of trees

you are still oh breathing softly

breathing softly through the breeze

and i think if i  listened long enough

i would hear god

    or at least a message
from the dead.

   all the voices in your head why can't you let them
     out

share them with someone who cares;

      because the whole in the ceiling is making a cut
   across this dark empty city

i went outside the other day all i saw was dust
    and
  shadows; with a gust
      they looked just like
   the rest of us

    still caught in their
  evening gowns and business suits
     and wedding attire,
       crooked and mute



at 22:11 i saw you in a trance
      with black smoke    oozing   out your
   beautiful beautiful lungs
       and you were young
        and still dreaming
         and i saw you run

    yes i saw you run

     in trappings as black
as a funeral march,
        they came dead and tired yes came dead and tired

     with your cold breath
  exhaled against the empty air
       i heard your heart stutter yes i heard your heart stutter

     and with our words
  kept in   a littleredbox,
       we went forward

         into   the   weather.

Description
i'm sitting   in my chair it's dark outside;
   the shutters are all closed the windows are blo w  n open
     (ever since that night i never shut them)
      there's a crack in my ceiling i wonder if it'll
   spread
     across my wall and through my floor  at   some point
   making a  circle
     and cutting   my room(&me) right in
  t  w   o

   there's a cut in my hand it never healed
     it sits gaping open an oozing with
   pus and  blood and
     ink

and the words   you   told me;

in that hotelroom, that night on the third floor with the

water pipes rusting and the old men screaming

out for revenge

like a jack-knived life cut short or denied

and the old lady told us stories of another life

and smiled at us lovely and wide yes lovely and wide

and walked out the door with a grin in her eyes

bright and denied yes bright and alive

and she disappeared out the door
and we never saw her again
   no we could never find her
     because all that she left
       was a hole in the wall that left the wind breezing through
    and the rain coming down
     tipittytaptippteytap

        yes i can't even  remember what i did yesterday;
   because all i can think about is you
     and the crack in my ceiling
  making it's way
     (vascular system)
        to   that
fadedyellowpictureframe crooked and blank yes crooked and blank
   where you once hung that daguerrotype
    of your own fabled self
          strung out
           on deadlines
              and  white-horses
                and holy wine

blazing lights of the cold moving city

or the lonely lament of a field full of trees

you are still oh breathing softly

breathing softly through the breeze

and i think if i  listened long enough

i would hear god

    or at least a message
from the dead.

   all the voices in your head why can't you let them
     out

share them with someone who cares;

      because the whole in the ceiling is making a cut
   across this dark empty city

i went outside the other day all i saw was dust
    and
  shadows; with a gust
      they looked just like
   the rest of us

    still caught in their
  evening gowns and business suits
     and wedding attire,
       crooked and mute



at 22:11 i saw you in a trance
      with black smoke    oozing   out your
   beautiful beautiful lungs
       and you were young
        and still dreaming
         and i saw you run

    yes i saw you run

     in trappings as black
as a funeral march,
        they came dead and tired yes came dead and tired

     with your cold breath
  exhaled against the empty air
       i heard your heart stutter yes i heard your heart stutter

     and with our words
  kept in   a littleredbox,
       we went forward

         into   the   weather.