Joana

Every time I’m running from you

I’m running from the tales of what you do

I know that they’re just dead flowers to you

But were they pink or were they blue?

And I hear you singing something about our precious life and precious time

But when I’ve seen you lately you’re just drinking all my precious wine

You read my mind, you act unkind and you do my *** and steal my hugs

Are you a hand or a glove?

Oh, darling, I don’t want to be like that

Dear Joana, just come back

Stripper coats and window shots

And crazy eyes evangelised

Berghain booths and tabletops

From living room floors to dead hotspots

I don’t know to be with you honey

To be you or to be me

Are you trapped or are you free?

Oh, darling where’s your head at?

Joana, you could come back

Even if it’s asking time

Everything you get just makes me cry

You ask for an ocean and fly over to Andora for the weekend

That never ends

And I hear you saying something about your deepest fears and past regret

But when we get together you’re just smoking all my cigarettes

You burn my sheets and shake my bed

Then you scratch my arms and it hurts my head

Could we make love instead?

Joana makes my eyes roll back

And you just can’t teach that

Well as I lie alone, awake

With my scars, stars and mistakes

I think of you and what you might do

I’m just a boy in your pocket

A boy in your pocket

And the joy you can bring

And the lies you can take

Cannot be kept

Or contained in a name

So I’m sorry

So sorry

You’re a hot read dancer

A deadly romancer

A fire and a furnace and a blessing and a purpose

You’re a Marvin and Joseph and Mary and a mischief

You’re a fighter and a kisser, a fighter and a kisser

You’re a creature and a fury and a kingdom and a crevice

A flower in the shredder and the malice in the palace

You’re the sunshine in the water

You’re the pollen in the gutter

You’re the midnight in the motion

You’re the midnight in the motion

You’re the smokestack rubber with the tiger hiding under

You’re the ****ed fork lightning with the melodrama thunder

You’re the surgeon and a junkie and a mother****ing science

You’re a poem in a porno

A poem in a porno