i sleep on my back cause it's good for the spine and coffin rehersal i know a psychic who reads her own palms and the findings are personal she keeps her fists shut tight and she sleeps on her side, well maybe she knows something i don't know
but i am still alive and loving wide eyed in my time not a mummy shrinking in its cloths your cat clawed out my eyes while i's distracted by your smile and now my sockets sit like empty catcher's mitts waiting and you ask me if there's anybody else that i'm dating
anna, anna, anna i'm patient but your painted pony is fading walks like a snakeskin in high grass and out to thrashing like a pet bird caught in a jet stream, that's me you count them blessings cause your net worth oughta be less cream in your best dreams but god put a song on my palm that you can't read
i'm lucky to be under this same sky that held the exhale from your first breath like a ring on a pillow of clouds i knew my tongue may stutter but my gift heart screams clear and swells to burst between your red lengths of its own bone briden self
but i am still alive and loving wide eyed in my time not a mummy shinking in its cloths there's a moth caught in my gut, groan i tug at my groin like tides trying to pull women towards them, i can't ignore them and when we say your name our tongues catch flame and you wonder why we ain't got nothing to say
what's your painted pony is fading walks like a snakeskin in high grass and out to thrashing like a pet bird caught in a jet stream, that's me you count them blessings cause your net worth oughta be less cream in your best dreams but god put a song on my palm that you can't read i'll be embalmed with it long before you'll see