Passed out in your yard

My clothes were soaking in the morning rain

My head's just a bruise, like walking in a coma

Like a battered drone

All my limbs are numb



I've been driving past your house

Been pounding at your door

I know I'm just a peon to you

But I deserve more

Than arrogance

Condolences

My hearts are on the sleeves of my shirts scattered over your lawn

And the morning dew... kissed them



Drunk on Bastille Day

Throwing pennies at the broken birds

Scribbling plans on napkins

A sketch of broken angel wings under your bed

My bandages



Stumbled over to your house

I'll sneak in the back door

I know I've been an asshole to you, but that was before

The argument, the accident

Well, I've heard it's just a matter of time before the hour is spent

And my hour is spent

I can't afford it this time

I can't afford this time

I can't afford this time

I can't afford it...



The hour has come for retribution

I'm storming the walls down

I'm storming the walls down

The hour has come for retribution

I'm storming the walls down

I'm storming the walls down

Before this night's done, the wounds will be gone

I'm storming the walls down

I'm storming the walls down



The Dirt of the Vineyard

Less talk, more dancing

If we could push off the sick conversation one more night

I surely would

My shoes have gathered the dust of the vineyard

Have I soiled your gown?

There's soil on your gown, like sangria

Cleanses the heart

Our clogged hearts are choking on the grime

As the big band waltzes on

Your stranded eyes whisper...



"The dirt is out.

I can smell her on your velvet hands."

The dirt is out --

are we stuck in the motions again?



Oh, but was it sweet

In the vineyard

Sangria, won't you bless

The starving lips

Such virgin lips

Would choke on all this grime

I've found some dirt under my nails

I'll scratch and bite until...



The dirt is out

but sangria burns under my skin

The dirt is out --

I thought I'd never wash these hands again



Under my skin....