A terrible man, A desperate attempt to make amends, Wrote a song for a girl Who could not, but just imagine About something he read once About static and distance Somehow he simply could not Without feeling terribly static and incredibly distant About recent encounters About love and affliction Ziplocks and plastic containers The gentleness of her kisses About the possible cancer which has manifested In the mirror far right of his forehead About a world that could never be kind, never be kind Never be kind (x7)
What if I vanished, dematerialized? Into the great miscellaneous, Into your craterous eyes? About the taste of tree sap (Something recently tasted) About growing old About his fear of the cold, and the darkness At age 27, how foolish does that make him? Bundled up in the cold, Afraid of the dark at age 27 A song for a girl He knew he'd never quite finish In the drunk breath of autumn And all its glory and strangeness We can hide (x8) You are mine (x5)