The Real Folk Blues, Pt. 3

I've been one-eyed running through these weeks

Drowning my head trying to the flood these memory banks

Honey, your portraits been hanging in the back of my eyes

But my nails aren't sharp enough to takWe were all marked: "return to sender"

In bubble wrapped basements

Denim patchwork hearts

Studded engagement rings

Stick-and-proke prose

We're all just candles in the wind

Kamikaze pirates burning at both ends

Stumbling in the darkness

Searching for a purpose

Driving into traffic

Blackout automatic

I just want to lick my wounds tonight

Or just let them bleed

I will never make you proude them out

But my nails aren't sharp enough to take them out

I'll give my eyes to the sun if it keeps the curtains drawn forever

I think I'd rather go blind than see that you're doing better

You were a pretty coffin