My head is too busy hurting to feel my heart,

Emotions are raw and new and final.

The dull day peddles its weak sun as truth,

But the sky remembers the real.

We went from bar for bar,

to bar to bar,

Trying to find spoken and bodily truths

And none were found.

No white knight, no Batman –

I run from the real and the actors –

And nobody is coming to save me

I left them all on the road.

I buried them on the road,

running from city to hole and river

and I’m drinking blood to stay young.

Young never felt so old,

I fall apart to ghosts in wind

and the chimes hold everything I am.

Sometimes

When the one gets away

She takes your heart,

And you pushed her there.