my old flame, my wife,
|
poor ghost old love
|
my old flame, my wife,
|
one day in june, I drove by our old house in maine
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everything changed for the best
|
how quivering and fierce we were
|
simmering like birds
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with our videos and records
|
|
our old house
|
everythingĄ¯s changed
|
bleached out and aired, ikea-d and swept bare,
|
poor ghost, old love,
|
speak with your old voice
|
of flaming insight
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that kept us awake at night
|
in one bed and apart, my old wife
|
my old flame
|
|
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My Old Flame
|
| John Vanderslice |
