Devin Davis Sandie
Stepping up from the ghostly scene
By the manhole smoke-machines
Waiting for the coast to clear
Playing a tune with a tiny tone
On her ribcage xylophone
In a key that no one else can hear
Sandie, what's that face about?
You've got so many rounds
Yet to go
And so many more nails to bend
Before you reach the end
Of the road
Staring out through the window pane
At the pellets of pregnant rain
Tapping out a drum-roll down below
Filling up all the cracks and dents
And high-fives in the hot cement
From the hands
You'll never get to know
Oh Sandie, what's that face about?
You've got so many rounds
Yet to go
And so many more nails to bend
Before you reach the end
Of the road
On a crystal night
Up on the canyon's side
I saw the western sky
Turn to red
But it couldn't touch the flames
Burning up your brains
That I saw through the frames
In your head
Sandie, what's that face about?
You've got so many rounds
Yet to go
And so many more nails to bend
Before you reach the end
Of the road
