Tuesday, April 22, 2008

REMAINS

Build your happiness with my boney remains
Paint your walls with my crimson fluid
Hang my flesh from your windows
Tread on my woven hair

Do I ever mean more to you
Than a night of pleasure
When no other touch can satisfy
Can understand
Your hunger is deep within
And cannot be soothed with a stroke

Am I the one you think of
When you cry out in the night?
I hear you
Can you hear me?
Me you never acknowledge
When others are around because
I'm knownNorth and south in this town

All I have are your whispers
On the phone
At night -- always when it's dark
You say you need to hear my voice
You need to know that I'm reachable
But you won't even give me a snapshot
I'm tired baby -- baby
Not my baby
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