The orange blossoms on your sweet tooth yellow at me as I smile at you and I can’t gather these withering flowers with ugly dreams, nasty fiends, knocking at my door
What is it for?
Single melodies playing all around pretend to revel in its percussive sound
You know I’ll always be around
Until I’m not.
Who’s happy with their lot when all you are is what you’ve got
Distracted fingers memorize stop lights and bruises, alcoholic cruises melt into me and out of you
Liquid malnourishment
Find your tongue is spent working its way through the cash in my wallet
Blue rubber bands paperback hands jumping frogs and mildew incense
Innocence lost lost lost in every note
Feverish pursuit, bulbous trees taking root,
I’m too late.
Woolgathering 