Field Report Healing Machine
What else could we do but go look
For something new away from the old place
Time will pass, weeds will be growing
Growing where they want to grow after the storms have raged
Cut the blossoms off the weed
Hoard the thorns, drop the leaves
One by one, love me not but love me, love me please
And they buried us not knowing we were seeds
Time is a bird with a mean, hooked beak
And he's just waiting around to work on you and on me
Share a private wince, feel the pulse
On the inside of a wound begun to weap
Shotgun wedding, black on blue
The river swelling like a bruise
We were kissing in the car like libertines
And if you hold me, just ignore what I say
And love me reckless in spite of the neck brace
And if the welcome's worn but the room is warm
Cut the bandage all the way down to the waist
Wash us in the river, sparkling clean
Hooked up to the wires and flashing lights of the healing machine
Wide awake and I can't get to sleep
I'm wide awake and I can't fall asleep
