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At night your grandmother dies on a bed of chamomile |
[00:12.152] |
And the Virgin Mary stuck her head out |
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from the wall it scared you |
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So you cried by floral bedside |
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until the telephone rang in the next room |
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It was six-six-six from a soldier |
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who was hysterical on a toilet seat |
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And you could tell he was good looking |
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just by the way that he would speak |
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And you both sob like little cherries |
[00:49.167] |
being crushed between my fingers |
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|
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I drop the pits on tile floors |
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and they echo like a tongueless mouth |
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Oh, I tried to speak |
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I swear to God |
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I wish I were your stray dog |
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Eating scraps of meat you gave me |
[01:22.350] |
because you saw my ribs and I was dirty |
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|
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Eating scraps of meat you gave me |
[01:39.233] |
because you saw my ribs and I was dirty |
[01:45.124] |
|
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Oh, I wish I were your stray dog |
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roaming aimlessly around the city |
[02:04.054] |
|