I’m a prostitute, and everybody pays And we’re gone with the spring Chasing silhouettes, and images of days Forgetting what we bring If it is that we bring anything So pack your clothes, and pack your woes And pack your songs and pack your wrongs, We’re leaving, and we’re leaving like we came Get on the plane get on the train, Get on that bus, just come with us, There ain’t nothing for you Nothing for you in this town of rain My life is on fire, my love is for free My parents are liars, my parents are me Relationships tired of the shit that expires around us Around us My daughters and sons become my life Become my light that drops and Shatters, but it never mattered Until now I peel off the scabs, you take off the rags Just let me stay a little longer, And hold me stronger And let me float along the river Who said I was your sinner I’m not the boss But child, I was lost, I was lost My life is on fire, my love is for free My parents are liars, my parents are me Relationships tired of the shit that expires around us Around us.

I was half done with the bottle by the time your call came in and you asked, “Daddy, why don’t you come over later?” I left the cinema and I jumped into the street where all my friends were getting high on shitty weed along the length of the equator “There are no good men, but there’s bad men” And every now and then I meet a ten and I rate her on a scale made up of sexual frustration There are no good men, but there’s dead men,and they’re the men in skinny jeans staring at screens looking out at the beach in silent contemplation By the time that I got off the bus the other half was gone and I’m not sure where it went to but I suspect it was my mind And from behind a boy named Mark, that peddled spearmint in the dark, asked if I had a place to sleep, asked if I knew of someplace dry And I said yes, yes, yes, I know a place that’s dry, and I’ve slept there a few times myself Bless the heavens that Jesus arrived and got high with the kitchen help I was knocking on your door, but you didn’t open, no you did not open but your mama did And she informed me what I smelled of, and what I looked like, and how I’ve always been dead set to be a failure and I predict that she’s correct So I went back to California Street, where I met her and you met me, and women wear black tape along their tits You see, it’s only California Street where beggars go to die, that I can piss each time I shit, and I can dance each time I cry By the time that I got off the bus the other half was gone and I’m not sure where it went to but I suspect it was my mind And from behind a boy named Marc, that peddled spearmint in the dark, asked if I had a place to sleep, and if I knew of someplace dry But I didn’t though, I went back out, got mugged, got beaten, and I got thrown out of places where there’s drinks associated with my face And there they go, the horny and the tired, the despised and the admired, as the night ends they all head to the same place And I said yes, yes, yes, I know a place that’s dry, and I’ve slept there a few times myself Bless the heavens that Jesus arrived and got high with the kitchen help

There’s a house on the opposite side of the street Where I hear what you tell me over the music Where no one asks if I use it There’s a place in this house I forget why and where If you blow out the candles and tie back your hair You’re forgiven for leaving, for lying, for scheming, and buying, for breathing, and dying Alone, don’t you go back home Don’t you dare go down on your knees as you crawl through the streets now you’re grown There’s a room where your mother keeps all that you’ve burned And your father in patience awaits your return And they hide it in mothballs and keep out of reach But in the summer there’s boys kissing boys by the pool And the last day she drives you she drives you to school And you wonder if there is anything there left to teach You were taught to stay Alone, don’t you go back home Don’t you dare fall back on your knees as you crawl through the streets now you’ve grown Forgiveness comes in many colors, but it never came in mine You see, I never could forgive, how you could never stay in line Nevertheless let’s stay in touch, and peel the paint off of these signs It’s this progressive way you live, gives me regressive ways to lie And say “The bells here are broken, the bells here don’t ring” She runs with her shoelace unlaced in the spring It gets hard, it gets hard to forget That the children are broken, the children don’t sing The children say “screw it, man, fuck everything” It gets hard, to not have these regrets There’s a couple that dances on couches and tables A lady that dances with horses in stables An old man that’s tying a noose ‘round his neck In the attic there’s an old box where old things are kept An urn with the remnants that no one forgets Relearn what your parents and peers all expect They expect you stay Alone, don’t you go back home Don’t you dare go down on your knees as you crawl through the streets now you’ve grown There’s a table where Heron and Nixon have tea Where there’s cash accounts, critics and interns and seed Less leave-less and hopeless impressions of youth You’re unable to see past the fog in the hall And relatable pictured depictments of fall Redundantly unopened presents, in truth In truth you should stay Alone, don’t you go back home Don’t you dare go down on your knees as you crawl through the streets now you’re grown Redemption came for all the others, but it never came for me There ain’t a person in this empty room that I would rather see There ain’t one word or sentence could describe the awful shit I’ve heard They keep on bringing me these cowards with their empty fucking words They say “The bells here are broken, the bells here don’t ring” She runs with her shoelace unlaced in the spring It gets hard, it gets hard to forget The children are broken, the children don’t sing The children say “screw it, man, fuck everything” It gets hard, to not have these regrets In the corner there’s hookers and trannies and crooks Out there there’s a poet giving blowjobs for books In here we’re all stacked into big fucking files On the lawn there’s a pool of what might look like blood At the entrance a door tries to keep out the flood In the end we’re all perverts and old pedophiles Told to stay Alone, don’t you go back home Don’t you dare go down on your knees as you crawl through the streets now you’re grown It gets easy to learn how to get back inside It gets pleasing to burn back the wallpaper skies That room at the end there should really stay closed But its dark and its cold when the windows stay shut This here’s where you dug yourself into your rut This here’s where you fuckers should all keep your clothes On and stay Alone, don’t you go back home Don’t you go down on your knees as you crawl through the streets now you’ve grown Recession tore apart my brothers, and it tore apart this town Now all these faggots and these niggers are gonna burn this fucker down While all these backwoods retard rednecks fuck their cousins in the woods There must be metaphors here somewhere, somewhere in my neighborhood They say “The bells here are broken, the bells here don’t ring” She runs with her shoelace unlaced in the spring It gets hard, it gets hard to forget That the children are broken, the children don’t sing The children say “screw it, man. Fuck everything” It gets hard, to not have these regrets

If it’s fine by you I’ll leave now And I’ll try not to be back until December And if it’s hard to keep your sleeves down Then refrain from fucking any other adolescent members Of your entourage, that’s all I was Take liberties and pills You’re a half-remembered memory on folded dollar bills And though the winter’s come and gone You’ll press rewind but you’ll be wrong For fast-forward works much better When you can’t even read the letters that I send Love and leave me, hold me down Grab and grieve me, cut me now Lover, don’t even bother with the pleasantries Honey, tuck me into bed Honey, fuck me ‘till I’m dead Lover, won’t you ignore all of my felonies? She said, “Shalala…” If it’s I that you relieve now Then I’m sorry, girl, you shouldn’t come much closer See, I can’t but disbelieve how There’s a story written underneath your pornographic posters It’s a dope mirage that elevated me into your room You’re a half remembered piece of shit discarded much too soon Among the “has-been”s, and the “been-there”s, where the faceless and the rich Sit with misremembered, apathetic, sickly children hitched upon your, Your “love and leave me, hold me down Grab and grieve me, cut me now” Lover, don’t even bother with the pleasantries Honey, tuck me into bed Honey, fuck me ‘till I’m dead Lover, won’t you ignore all of my felonies? She said, “Shalala…” Yes, it’s fine boy you should leave now, But just don’t expect that I will leave with you See, there’s a line that must be held down, Separating what you know, From what I once thought that you knew About the functioning of dialogue held over broken mugs And the ignorance of sentiment conveyed by means of shrugs Oh how they pacify your soul, these empty ballads without words, So fuck your “I love you”s and your “Shalalas” And fuck what you heard When all you heard was ”Love and leave me, hold me down Grab and grieve me, cut me now” Lover, don’t even bother with the pleasantries Honey, tuck me into bed Honey, fuck me ‘till I’m dead Lover, won’t you ignore all of my felonies? She said, “Shalala…”

I’ve forgotten how to write And it’s not often that I laugh I never really understood how anybody could When children die of hunger And there’s violence in the streets And I can’t get Wi-Fi in my room And I hate my fucking sheets I’ve forgotten what to call you And I never liked your laugh But the fact that you put up with my neurosis is enough To convince myself that you’re the one, And convince you of the same I’ll give you one more decade If you give me one more day One more day I pray for absolution I pray For inner peace of mind I pray that someone will come blow me So come and blow me And take your time I’ve forgotten how to cry out loud For anybody else And I haven’t yet felt hunger That I haven’t caused myself And the mirror stopped recognizing me Three diets ago And I’m writing every day now But by god I’m writing slow Now I’ve forgotten how to love you But my body wants to Yes it does My liquor-fueled libido wants to fuck them all All at once My pill-sedated-mind, it might just let it Just for fun And I still can’t remember What it takes it to point this gun And so I pray I pray for absolution I pray I pray for you and I I pray for inner peace and silence But mostly silence and mostly I I pray for me