Million Dead There Are Ghosts
so quiet, i can hear that the refrigerator is on, and i can hear the fabric from your sleeping bag, how it sounds against someone else's floor. there was a small riot that kept me up till dawn. it seemed someone had something to say, but the rest of the party was out on the lawn. who called, and what the hell did they say? get off my doorstep right now, throw another million away. please not today. there's a man around, his face always firetruck red, and i've heard there were angels in his head, but now he holds a baseball bat instead. and there's that famous sound that the snow makes under my feet. a snowfall too cold for a snowball fall saves me from my impending wing. who called and what the hell did they say? get off my doorstep right now. don't you dare get in my way. and there are ghosts and they won't even wait to call. they will crawl up in your skin and they will come out from the walls if you let them.
