Talk About - Dear and the Headlights

You’re like a constant crowding consonant

I’m a claustrophobic;

I, I said

We’re as comfortable as wool warming naked indifference

Thank God your words have come to rescue me from my sentence

You’re like a two stepping tongue on a flesh dance floor

You’re the eulogy I can’t avoid anymore

That tumor in my side celebrating malignance:

«Surprise!

I’m moving in;

I think I’ve grown on your parents»

You want to talk about all the feelings I’m feeling

I’m a passed out priest in an AA meeting

And they’re checking my pulse, trying to make a decision

I’ve got those rolled back eyes but nothing’s clouding my vision

You’re like a knock at the door in the middle of dinner

From the friendly registered sex offender

All equipped with a mustache and a windowless van

You’re telling me how much you’ve changed

I’m trying to hide the crayons

And no you can’t come in

I’m like your neighbor’s hands on your father’s throat:

«Sweetie, you go back inside, see this is just for adults»

So adult is what we’ll be, domestic violence in denim

Each tumble down the stairs appeals your puff paint addendum

You say I’m your backpack caught on a chain link fence

Nah, dear, I’m a thank you card in the future tense

I’m jumping out of cakes serving divorce papers

I’d say I love you too, but I’m all out of favors

You want to talk about all the feelings I’m feeling

Like your chalkboard wrists, but I don’t tally the meaning

You keep forgetting the plot, let alone the long sleeps

My eyes, they only know three words and each is pronounced «Please!?»

I’d walk you home if I could find my crutches

Probably listen more if you didn’t talk so much

Why don’t you show yourself out

How can you cry now, this whole thing’s been such a drought Alright

You want to talk about all the feelings I’m feeling

You’re a phone call home after eight long seasons

There’s a mail order bride and a baby that’s teething

Said the smog, it hurts your eyes, so on the next train you’re leaving

I’m not certain it’s the smog, more just the constant grieving

But you’re dropping off the kid, sticking me with the feedings

I said, «oh God damn it, you’re so mean»

You say I’ll lose the Christian crowd if I say things like these

But I’ve already lost them, I couldn’t care less

I guess my path, it just got wide, so I’ll just wish you all my narrow best

I guess that’s it