You stare at me scared and blinking like I’m a passenger jet on fire
Like I’m a golden-haired loose cannon fitted with trip wire
And you’re a fragile cloud of smoke
Written in the sky, the wind could tear you down and flip you inward
Buried down six feet just to sing about the dirt
And how you clawed your way out
How next time you try to fight the straight line and die in the right light, you’ll pick a sunny place to drown
You torched me like a teal-eyed lighting bolt
then burnt the hospital down  
I’ll wring you like an orange
Until I’ve had my fill and can live with the taste in my mouth