A second thought, it's not as hard as I remember it,
oh my dead poet.
Step off the train admitting admitting all the things I've known.
What have I described for?
This atrophy, the recoil of memory?
It worked for you, could work for me, too.
Too many drinks, figured out what makes me sink.
Too many drinks, sucks me in and makes me stink.

The body stopped and fell apart, what I inherited:
this ground bound stoic.
Open my eyes and feel them breathing down my neck,
all these strangers gaping.
A dizzy ring and blurry scenes, like all things I've lost,
left there in the mud that marks the morning after.
Get lost in time, rearrange what makes me mine.
Get lost in time, rearrange, call it mine.

Your mom found God again and talks about about the accident
like you're still there beside her.
Inside your house, I feel like I could never change.
It's the same as when we played there.
And how 'bout me? The mail-in? the absentee?
"I'd know you anywhere, it means so much that you care."
Caught up in everything that's passed,
and it knocks me on my ass.
It knocks me on, it knocks me out.

I know the light and dark you found
buried in the underground;
Dissolute and spectral and the matter made a sound.
Dog legs in the hound.
Was it really just a bluff?
Will it ever be enough?

The gravel pit mounds that took over your lawn
are like burial grounds for the man I never bothered to know.
Your dad appears, slinking out of the closet
with a face like a funeral. Seeing me caused it

His eyes from the glass of his breathing mask ask me to
search for you.
I'm a time machine bomb as I scour your your lawn,
and I burn, I burn for you.

This is not a fate I could have guessed when we were young,
before acid hit the tongue, you're undone, sucking
cigarettes down just to get through the day
and absolve absolve absolve