I am walking
of the dial tone again
out in the rain
and I am listening to the low moan
nowhere with you
and I am getting
and I can't let it go
and I can't get through.
the old woman behind the pink curtains
and the closed door
on the first floor
she's listening through the air shaft
to see how long our swan song can last
and both hands
now use both hands
I am writing
graffitti on your body
oh, no don't close your eyes
I am drawing the story of
I am watching your chest rise and fall
and the rest of it all
like the tides of my life,
how hard we tried
I am waiting for sleep
and your flesh has been my pillow
and your bones have been my bedframe
to offer up the deep
with both hands
in eachother's shadows we grew less and less tall
and eventually our theories couldn't explain it all
and I'm recording our history now on the bedroom wall
and eventually the landlord will come
and paint over it all
and I am walking
out in the rain and I am listening to the low moan of the dial tone again
and I am getting nowhere with you
and I can't let it go
and I can't get though
oh, no don't close your eyes
So now use both hands
please use both hands
I am drawing the story of how hard we tried
I am writing graffitti on your body
how hard we triedhard we tried.
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