Wild, wild grass and wild, wicked smile, heavy
wooden barn burning off the hip for us to see, same barn
we made love in, views of red and blue firetruck lights
forever burnt, engraved inside my head, days so hot things
catch sparks in the nights when we come to life again
remember how we couldn't afford clothes (well, still can't)
so we all partied in the ****, skinny dip in the lake and a flame
snuck off with Johnny somewhere, but glad no animals lived
inside that barn for years now and the country is where I belong---

telephone poles to nowhere, blue skies, rolling yellow grassy hills
and water towers occasionally, your wild and wicked smile
next to me in the van with our friends doing our time on the road
but a burning barn can't crush our spirits more than they already are
can't ruin the memories of a number of electrified nights
of alcohol and poor decisions, broken people collecting
each other's pieces.

This Saturday was tight lipped cold, gripped by the wind on the roll
I think I need to slow my roll too, headlong down a hill hey,
been wanting your touch but you dangle that in front of me for too long
make me feel helpless like I don't have no choice but to love you
Ma downstairs with her friends baking cake stuck in the 70s
dressed in fishnets and licking whipped cream up
I used to sneak out the windows in the arid nights while they partied
but these days this tune's on the jukebox and archaic like the arcade
and so fades us, tell me why like everyday is a change of pace to catch you

we're dusting off our guns for the summertime
memories to be made and sadness for each one
you can take me out only if you can pick me up with your arms
and if you don't want to come I guess I'll go in all alone
trying to be indifferent, painting on my face rifting my face
let's try to cover it up with masks, hide the suffering
and maybe you're showing interest in my proposition
or just leading me on to a scrap of your own
what's the sign I'm supposed to search on your face for?

the next time you're in town I'll wonder if everything is real
you keep biting strands of my hair, just missing bullets from afar
baby tell me how you feel in bed, something wrong with me
don't waste another day worrying what I am other than the fact
I am real, and really alone, unable to speak in other things than money

hello slurs into
i miss you s...
                        ...o much
days anesthetic infused with sun
i'm so sick of being tired
i'm so tired of being sick
your touch scares me sometimes
with how quickly it comes
and outlines my hands
then: Fade away beneath the skin.
At night comes my witching hour
but sometimes midday
my happiness dies suddenly

I don't trust you like a shirt, but I want to be down with you in Hollywood
baby the streets got that effect on me like a wanderlust
I'm still floating about free game working late, I don't want
you to tell me I'm good I want you to tell me I'm great
I want to be all your falling moonlight fantasies late night
catch fire my golden skin emerging from the shower in my calvin kleins
make me feel Portuguese, a misty memory resurfacing to my mind
collecting sparks in my eyes with bright wonder