haven’t found the time to feed uscurled
and weeping audibly
ooh what a scenefolds its spine
and lie between ussprawled upon
the lawn for all to seedo the warnings
give you shiversare your mornings grim
and grey ooh we’re the samewe’ll sit in air
conditioned theaterswile away the hours
until we changemaybe in timesomething
will soothe your trouble in mindriot
in your porestill you don’t mindthe itch
in your feetthe sounds at nightthe devil
at your doorswinging cats in pillow cases
smacking hats off people’s heads
ooh things were saidthat singed the eyebrows
from their facesplanted seeds of worry
in their bedsmaybe in timesomething
will soothe your trouble in mindfire in your
bonesbaby you’re big with the news
when i get homeyou’re marking
where it starts and where it endsand
watching how the look of love it burns
and bendsand how the sidewalk
doesn’t end it just turns into road