fixer
you broke something
I crawl
in the ceiling
over here under there
in the dark night
under the new moon
this church is in disrepair
there is dust on my fingers
and in my hair
my heart
it must be here
somewhere…
I slide across
the silver line
along the dark wood walls
a small box
full of unfair
two red birds flying
this church is in disrepair
there is dust on my fingers
and in my hair
my heart
it must be here
somewhere…
I wander this house
dropping feathers like flowers
i smell honeysuckle
better than fear
Calling
I want you
Trying to make you hear
Through my dreaming
every day every day
every where
this church is in disrepair
there is dust on my fingers
and in my hair
my heart
it must be here
somewhere…
I’m crazy for you
I look for your eyes
It is me seeking death
my scorpion
your poison so clear
I need that piece you put in the ceiling
don’t see how but
you took it from here
this church is in disrepair
there is dust on my fingers
and in my hair
my heart
it must be here
somewhere…
