Joan Of Arc A Tell-tale Penis
whoever else i may have been
she'd still be going through this now
but all the quiet hours i require still cant show me
how
im barely living
in her halftime show
keeping warped minutes of her wishes and revisions
and somethings knocking around in me like a loose nut
this tell-tale penis kick in the gut
shot down my strut
the walls are beating
it's my reflection in my death
it's the alarm clock riding the horizon
once we spent our afternoons
dancing in our living rooms
now shes giving into her most unlit corners too soon
love is a lifetime's winding twisting tapestry
so reborn now without fears
before you ever met me
you can end things with your boyfriend
i'll quit chasing you around
but how long will the echo of the tell-tale penis sound
its the creak in the floorboards
it's throb is in my head
it's the alarm clock riding the horizon
it's the hand up through the dirt
toward the sky after midnight
burried alive and left for dead
