Traffic lights are on the
runThanksgiving day we play
déjà vu like a card game
Breaking bread, skipping wine and lemon juice
The smell of
marijuana permeates
the sidewalk near the school
Every ship on the water's complaining that they can't see the
sandbar until it's too late,
Do we have a place for you here?
I'm selling you out like a
hurricane,
You watch me
twitch, and wince,
getting me off the ground so completely
You're wearing me out and I don't know what to do
And
one shot in the
dark.
And once, the wind signs the ground in blood.
And your
guilty trick is
over.