Chokebore Alaska
You smell like burning luggage, lighting fires on the
hillsides, you remind me of Alaska and other places that
I've been to, but I've been swimming in the noises of all
these other people, trying to hold it all together and
pretend like everything's like normal. But, I'm down,
what do you want from me? Don't you know what counts? You
sound like falling airplanes and you scream at me to
watch you, as you fall through stained-glass windows into
other peoples houses, but my knees are weak, my knees are
weak. And I'm down, what do you want from me? Don't you
know what counts?
