I need a remedy of diesel and dust
|
Something I can taste whith a fix I can trust
|
Another high, more potent than lust.
|
Eating and repeating
|
like the workings of rust and time.
|
|
I woke to the sound and the rhythm of rain
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dancing down on the window pane.
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Comatose. Eyes half closed.
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Arms wrapped up with the wounds all sewn.
|
I froze from head to toe.
|
Clenched the jaw,
|
then felt my body roll over slow.
|
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I must live to know that healing takes some time.
|
|
So no regrets, and no looking back to sinking ships.
|
I'll strip the gauze for a rational self-analysis.
|
"I'm down. Cut and bound.
|
Counting scars, and counting blessings loud."
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So loud.
|
|
I must live to know that time alone is always
|
healing as long as there's bleeding.
|
No regrets, or falling fits.
|
I'll strip the gauze and bleed it.
|
|
There's no worry.
|
It's only simple therapy.
|
|
-----------------
|
Remedy
|
| Hot Water Music |
