On a line you lie of smoke and pebbles
Don't hit me like that
While the paint dries inside
You take forever to dry
Watch me draw a circle on the shirt
Say something in a different language so I can forget
But you need me, not the other way around
This shirt wreaks of alcohol
No love at all
It hasn't dried yet, but it's on my clothesline
Yet it stares me down like a piece of meat
And I am wet clothes hanging
I want more than pins in me
In fact, find me a wind that will blow love into my own soul
