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Cold snapped like a coiled spring; |
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You can feel the frost is coming on |
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We are marigolden - dropping orange and umber, |
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Just barely holding on |
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And now downtown's dolled up with tinsel and angels |
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Seasons sneak like haircuts, teased apart and tangled |
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We were fraying for a while, but we took it all down |
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Like the garland hanging off traffic signals |
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But leave the lights on |
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Cause it might be nighttime when I get there |
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But I'm on my way home |
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Putting on old clothes in a new way |
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Putting on the pose of a new stage |
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Waking up everyday just a little bit changed |
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While it breaks over us like waves |
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Long live beauty; short live pain |
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Lust for wonder and hunger pangs |
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Face your fear, but do not shame: |
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It doesn't end; it just wears away |
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But leave the lights on |
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Cause it might be nighttime when I get there |
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But I'm on my way home |
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I've been clawing away at what's underneath: |
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Closer than solid ground beneath your feet |
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Closer, even now, than lips and teeth |
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Closer now, then out of reach |
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And the body remembers what the mind forgets: |
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Archives every heartbreak, every cigarette |
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These reset bones? They might not hold, |
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But they might yet |
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Leave the lights on |
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Cause it might be nighttime when I get there |
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But I'm on my way home |
