February 7, 2013

On Treacherously Keeping It In.

Does he love you tonight?
Did it keep you up until tomorrow?
How do you keep it all together, Babe,
counting all those damned, dead sparrows 
by yourself?

You're by yourself, now.
And you'll always be alone
there, there
by yourself.


You got your anger
in the whitest little flame,
the color of your ghostly, gauntly, ghastly, 
cowardly little game 
there by yourself.

...

Devil and the angels got their promises to keep,
like you got your pity
there
keeping you from sleep 

there by yourself.

...

You got your silence
in a violent, little box.

Opened it up to teach me a lesson;
ain't you a sly little fox 
there by yourself.

You're by yourself, now.
And you'll always be alone 
there, there
by yourself.

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