the absence of god will bring you comfort, baby,
and planning’s for the poor so let’s pretend that we’re rich,
and i’m not my body or how i choose to destroy it.
folk singers sing songs for the workin’ baby.
we’re just recreation for all those doctors and lawyers,
but there’s no relief for the bleeding heart
’cause they’ll be losing bodies tonight.
and rob says “you love, love, love, love and then you die…”
i’ve watched him while sleeping and seen him crying
with closed eyes.
and you’re not happy, but you’re funny, and i’m tripping over my joy.
i just keep on getting up again.
we could be daytime drunks if we wanted,
but we’d never get anything done that way, baby,
and we’d still be ruled by our dueling perspectives.
and i’m not my perspective, or the lies i’ll tell you every time.
and morgan says, “maybe love won’t let you down.
all of your failures are training grounds
and just as your back’s turned, you’ll be surprised,” she says,
“as your solitude subsides.”
and mike, i’ll teach you how to swim
if you turn the bad in me into good again.
and i say “there’s trouble when everything is fine…”
the need to destroy things creeps up on me every time,
and just as love’s silhouette appears i close my eyes
and disappear, tonight…
and something’s got to change
’cause our love’s the slowest moving train