Turpentine

Once awake, you're slow to roll over
until I shake you and pull back the covers
"Let's be late," you say, "or skip altogether
the plans we made over the summer."

oh, Designer, Designer, design me a way
Designer, Designer, design me a way to stay in her head.

Once awake, I have to start over,
strip the paint, and soak in the turpentine.
The canvas calls me, "So you say I'm a saint?"
It's hard to see, it's all been erased.
So what do I do with all this negative space?
What do I do with you?

When You designed her, designer her, designer her this way,
You designed her, designed her with all this negative space,
You designed her, designed her, designed her this way,
designed her, designed her, designed her this way,
to stay in my head,
to stay in my heart,
to stay in my head, oh...

Once awake, you're slow to roll over.

Good Things Worthy

She's been licking raindrops from windows again
trying to taste the honey-sweet life-giving water
in the rain that falls down from God's house,
the rain that falls down and fills up our mouths.

If we were kings like the ones that we pretend to be
with scissor scepters and fire in our eyes,
would we do good things worthy of white wings,
but really, what good men ever stay dead?
When the rains that fall down from God's house
wash away what remains of our tireless doubt.

What secret words would win you?
What secret words would claim your love?
Because I am just as cruel as the ones who pushed the nails through.

Although you and I will wander wide
with stalwart strides, no place to lie,
our hearts still beg to be unbroken.
Like smoking guns, the tears will run,
but He wastes not one, no not one,
is that kind of love so soon forgotten?