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jon-tobiasPoems
This song ended like a dry heave halleluja Like the auction caller ran out of breath Like we both had nothing to sell and nothing to say And I've been waiting fo that gasp So this song can come back. Been adding gunpowder and tobacco leaves to my coffee For voice like the earth To sing a song written like dust kicked up in the ways we walk away In dirt brown cursive And choke on your harmonica inhale You left me speechless With the things you said to me Your rusty bear trap dentures gnashing Spitting out the venom you ****** from your own wounds Your music tastes bad when it's lost it's tune When Captain Morgan set your soul to sea Poppin' pain killers because the pain aint free And momma's got a new song now Long after the men have left to the stairs to smoke And the women wait with them to be walked to their cars You sit on your piano alone Still singing Warped wreckord throat A song all slurs I leave with the men too And it's just you In your tiny room The door slowly closes behind me and your song is cut short And I catch myself singing along in the silence And realize I'm out of tune
0
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 6:53 PM UTC
Mother's Song
This song ended like a dry heave halleluja Like the auction caller ran out of breath Like we both had nothing to sell and nothing to say And I've been waiting fo that gasp So this song can come back. Been adding gunpowder and tobacco leaves to my coffee For voice like the earth To sing a song written like dust kicked up in the ways we walk away In dirt brown cursive And choke on your harmonica inhale You left me speechless With the things you said to me Your rusty bear trap dentures gnashing Spitting out the venom you ****** from your own wounds Your music tastes bad when it's lost it's tune When Captain Morgan set your soul to sea Poppin' pain killers because the pain aint free And momma's got a new song now Long after the men have left to the stairs to smoke And the women wait with them to be walked to their cars You sit on your piano alone Still singing Warped wreckord throat A song all slurs I leave with the men too And it's just you In your tiny room The door slowly closes behind me and your song is cut short And I catch myself singing along in the silence And realize I'm out of tune
jon-tobias
Written by
jon-tobias
American
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 6:53 PM UTC
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