Birch Meadows, 1991

In my haste I squandered a century
A childhood gone
In my failures I make up for it

I found a God in your drawer
The pages just like new
The pages almost just like skin

Break another window
Make a fist and then
Relax

She was gone a little longer than you cared for
And you just had to set her straight
Didn’t you?

You make me sick
There’s nothing you could say to put it back in place
The trailer isn’t there
“The Dance” isn’t playing

In our haste we murdered a family
It all went wrong
But in our failures we make up for it