It’s not the clothes that she borrows

just call me out - you know I’ll follow

Back thru the backdoor into June

Luck will sleep the October June



Sometimes in deep thought I’m 31

she’s wanting kids

sounds like fun,

I’ll teach them to sing along

sure beats the end of a smoking gun



And I know that god exists

because I feel him sometimes

when she takes up the sheets

or my telephone lines, but

when I’m home she says:

“Baby you’re a lie...”

“You’re not really here.”

“You’ve gone away