To Death's Heart (In Three Parts) - Bright Eyes

Didn’t hallucinate, it wasn’t strange

Inside the lines I drew, been staying in my lane

Wasn’t assigned to me, I’m not to blame

Brown bottles of Jameson, grey ashes in a tray I put out

Got

cancer sick

, got on a plane

Visited the Vatican to watch the pontiff wave

And he say,

«Benedicente, benedicente, benedicente»

On a long hot Sunday

Got to get out of here, I can’t remain

Limbs, they hang like chandeliers from alcohol and age

Down in the weeds again, tough to explain

Mattress soaked in gasoline makes iridescent flames;

I lay down

I’ll ask my love, what will she say?

What’s it like to live with me here every fucking day?

But she stays;

«Agotante, agotante, agotante»

In her most gentle way