Jenny Owen Youngs Lightning Rod
Heart attack,
jack-in-the-box
I've been here so long
I'm starting to rot.
And you're taking my fear,
selling it in jars.
Back on the playground
my blue socks are bloody
I need someone to toss the confetti
at the Ticker Day Parade,
falling for myself.
Look to the fly
she used to be pretty
don't say a word,
but shes drying out slowly
you have the answers
I have the car keys.
Lightning rod strapped to my shoulders
I'm searching through windows for right and thunder that could bring to merciful end this overdrone way.
Carpet burns up to my elbows
it's time that you learned,
I guess I should tell you,
that the things you know about me
never would come true.
Look to the fly
I used to be pretty
dont say a word
but I'm drying out quickly
you have the answers
I have the car keys
