Carl

Something says we're done, you don’t need a sunset, our ashes blown and gone, give God his due, he’ll take any stupid bet, doesn’t wait for thank- you, fire and distant thunder, traps have all been set, the unfettered wounds between us, my tongue is parchment glue, a seal on every debt, I walk along the avenue, don't know where I’m from, tired of cigarettes, beneath this heavy boulder, say it isn’t true in houses that we’ve left, squabbling over what to do, how our world crumbles, in gardens of the West, on each night wind a number, arms to hold me yet ?