October and over
There's never enough words for my throat
So cold in the root cellar suburbs
Low in the lowlight
And high on tender sparks
Water comes through wood
Over my head
Same as it would
Through the hull of a dead ship
Sailing on a slow sea
And I've seen too many wrecks to think this year
That horizon
Well it's climbing high's it can
And this ladder flatters gravity
And the bones we hold tremble our knees
But they'll be worn no more
There's all those girls
And all those boys
Who liked me better when
I was weakened by loss
In all the right spots
But I don`t need to slap people in the face