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When the bus shelter windows and napkin dispensers surprise |
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With distorted reflections, it's never the someone you're hoping to recognize |
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And the rent is too high living here between reasons to live |
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Where you can't sleep alone and your memories groan and the borders of night start to give |
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When you can't save |
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Cash or conviction, you're broke and you're breaking |
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A tired shoelace or a wave |
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So long past past-due, a new name for everything |
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When the one-ways collude with the map that you folded wrong |
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And the route you abandoned is always the path that you probably should be upon |
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When the bottle cap ashtrays and intimates' ears are all full |
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With results of your breath, and the threads of your fear are unfurled with the tiniest pull |
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One more time, try |
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Stand with your hands in your pockets and stare |
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At the smudge on a newspaper sky |
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And ask it to rain a new name for everything |
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Fire every phrase |
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They don't want to work for us anymore |
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Dot and dash our days |
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Make your face the flag of a semaphore |
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All you won't show |
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The boxes you brought here and never unpacked are still patiently waiting to go |
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So put on those clothes you never grew into, and smile like you mean it for once |
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If you come back, bring a new name for everything |
