Wind Phoenix - Cymbals Eat Guitars

Exotic vision

Permanently red-light

Squinting for hours

Natural American spirit doctorate

Make love to inanimate objects

Pasteboard decked out in Ikea finery

Without use of a pole she swings

Her thighs clamped 'round infinity

In the eye of a maelstrom of Marlboro mail-order memorabilia

Rivers, mountains and smoking shirt jackets

I am his liver

I’m gray and decaying

My texture’s a sidewalk

And Notre Dame’s playing

Afternoon’s wristwatch

Deposited in nightstand’s drawer

If Jerry knew he’d build a marquee

And charge her silent watchers

And they’d pay in foreign-looking coins

That would turn to dust in his dresser, by morning, yeah

You’re gaslighting me

I can see through the dusk beams

Walking with your fingers in splints, yeah

Blue menagerie, like a frigid pastoral

I would do anything, throw everything away

In her last moments I pined for times

When I could never have dreamed of being responsible

For the charred remains presently huffed by the most famous of

The celebrity teenage drug casualties

The wind the wind the wind the wind the wind the wind