Bonaduces We Never Close
Punching in, I see my reflection in the time clock. I'm
shaking and I'm flushed. The aftermath of our fall-out. I
didn't want to walk away, but I've been working here a
month and I've missed a ton* already. My body is wrapped
up in a uniform. An old man is staring at my breasts. His
excuse is the name tag. The fourescent lights are giving
me a migraine. I trace the outline of your name on the
pressure cooker. And it's so hard. There's always
something else to do. My shoulder's aching and I'm
getting so confused, because I just want to be with you
tonight. I just want to spew apologies. I just want to be
with you tonight, but work continues to impose. Neon sign
glows: We Never Close. I picture you, wrapped up in a
comforter. Red pajamas with a hood. You rub your feet
while you're sleeping. Azrael is moving in close to you.
He sends you subliminals, like, I hate my vegan cat food.
And it's so hard to try and concentrate. I'm losing focus
at either end of things. Chorus. I've got hours left of
this, and I'm wound up so tight. My eyes gloss over when
they order. They ask if I'm all right. Well, I don't like
looking at beef at the best of times, and now I'm covered
up in grease when I want to sort out this mess in my
life. Chorus.
