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• Artiste: Sleeping Cranes
• Titre: Parlor Wolves
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Staring through night to your eyelids Bathed the white moon's morose Both swearing that we were content with The ending we couldn't compose Your touch couldn't combat the imminent And my fumbling words were just mist In the face of such distance I believed that I would just forget But I still see your ghost on the pavement Slithering the streets with the snow And each moment we stood in that streetlight Swells out of any string's steady bow I thought the misery that tied us together Would starve in its romanticized youth But I'm not sure I'll ever love anyone The way I never loved you I'd still sell my soul for a new map To draw me from these catacombs To destroy this splint I've been nursing And carve me a path to my home But that house still erodes gently Underneath each day's oppressing weight And I know that I traffic alone now In this glorified interstate break These blueprints I'd drafted for new states Emerged a cold, splintered mess I dragged the snow and dead streets to the courthouse But the bastards refused to confess Bestowing upon my reflection A myriad of free cold readings Sitting motionless atop my Windmill cartoon feet The days have carved lines in my cheekbones Pushing my face past its age Souring the South for a sweat lodge Still hoping someday I'll be saved Two wolves are at odds in the parlor Their noses at the backs of my knees My indifference, my self-love Just depends on the one that I feed My capillaries sprawl with congestion From chemicals and warm nicotine And when the weed is all out of forgiveness I'll be baptized in the winding creek They'll peel my head out from the black banks The mortar will rot from my doors I'll unearth grace without mandate And I'll shackle myself nevermore.