Out on the palms
Like pillars stand strong
Bent tillers broken by a storm
That the mood looked red like blood
Looking into get away
But the grass grows tall
Hidden in the corn
With leaves that cut me
A scar on my eye
The blood is hot
A trail of hungry hounds
Starving from the east
I can't sleep
Even when I have a fire in the mouth of a deep cave
And I can sleep in the corner with my knife out

I cannot tell the difference between real life and dreams
Your face still and smooth
The marble cold floor you lay your back on
It became almost enough
Because i can drink the devil under the table
It feels like I'm thirteen
And I still just want to fight
And scream
I can throw a rock into the stream
Where I once  fished all summer