Sun through the curtains
i gave you a sign
the birds all were quiet
you were so quiet
some hear a call
some are the messengers
i thumb through the pictures
and know them all
they said, ‘do you remember where you saw her last?’
i said, ‘her skin is cinnamon, her skin is cinnamon’
i have too many stories
keeping it serious
some are collectors
keeping it straight
it was a hospital
i was delirious
i clung to the stretcher
i drew them a heart
they said, ‘do you remember where you saw her last?’
i said, ‘her skin is cinnamon, her skin is cinnamon’
two gondolas to carry us
grand via was hilarious
st. paul was there to marry us
we lied, ‘we’re already married!’
cos, here’s proof, we have suntans
and i spoke up with my new hands
listen to my car
what’s it telling us?
start… please start… please start
they said, ‘do you remember where you saw her last?’
i said, ‘her skin is cinnamon, her skin is cinnamon’
is it spring where you are?
i waited all winter
chasing the lampcords back to the wall
it’s a plausible scenario:
i clung to the stretcher
i drew them a heart
they said, ‘do you remember where you saw her last?’
i said, ‘her skin is cinnamon, her skin is cinnamon’