My brother finds comfort in calculators

He assigns every number a name

He believes that they add up to certainty

And he's upset with the fractions that remain

So I examine these maps with my eyes and at best

I can trace with my finger all the way

To that town where she went an attempt to forget

The cracks and the lines of my face

So Jetsabel cleaned out the closets for me

And she piled the boxes in the hall

Tomorrow when she wakes she'll come take them away

And they will never haunt me again

But it is still hard to sleep with the moon's heavy beams

I run barefoot to the backyard

Just to freeze in my place by the wraught-iron gate

Too afraid and ashamed to advance

Today I walked through the snow and found a field of headstones

They were in rows like the weeks on calendars

Where each box is a day that you can ever escape

Without pills for your poisonous sleep

These memories leak from these faucets that weep

Hot tears splash against the shower floor

And I stand in the steam as if inside a dream

I can see her again by the sink

From behind the bathroom mirror she pulls a thermometer

And placed it underneath my tongue

She said 'you are as pale as a sheet, you look awful my sweet

Lay down and wait for the sun'

So I stayed in that bed, she brought me water and read

Each night from a volume out loud

She whispered soft poetry

Her favorite was 'Annabel Lee'

And those words, like these drugs, comforted me

But the clocks kept waving their hands and she could not understand

Why my temperature would never drop

And although she promised with tears that she would always be here

I heard truth like the sounding sea

I said, 'My Arienette, oh how soon you forget

This house will never be your home

And you will leave in the fall when the trees become graves

And their colors lie dead in the grass'

Gold and green torture me like the lies I believe so easily

Oh my Jetsabel, look at this hell that I have made

If you want maybe drop by sometime, put some flowers on my grave

So that I will look beautiful in my silent sepulchre

Yeah, that's fine, throw those dresses away

I don't want anything of hers

For the moon never shines and the stars never rise

Without bringing me dreams

Haunted by the ghosts of those bright eyes