Here I am still intact,
and I should give myself
credit for that,
But I have cast a stone
deep into my throat,
I squat on land my
feet won't reach,
The smell of blood and
bile and bleach,
I need a square foot
and a rope

We can weave, we can unravel,
We keep on sleeping
right through our travels,
We can weave, we can unravel,
Take our confusion to a
much higher level

Spit it up and hand it over
to yet another child of squallor,
Pallid wheezing,
Lost all her color,
Her dark circles
getting darker,
He crossed her palm,
But nothing seems
to wake her from her
s___ty dreams,
Now she's become just one
more helpless package
of doom

The city looks especially
vindictive tonight,
That hitchhicker looks like
he's headed home to
murder his wife,
Well it's a proven fact they
don't respond to every call
for help in time,
So there she stays,
Poor little girl,
Lying on the floor of a
dirty bathroom,
No folks there's no device,
No box of gods to descend
and take this tragedy,
Tie up all the loose ends

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